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DAVID 
THE  SON  OF  JESSE 


DAVID 
THE  SON  OF  JESSE 


BY 

MARJORIE  STRACHEY 


»w»VtfV<-«;^ 


NEW  YORK 

THE  CENTURY  CO. 

1922 


Copyright,  1922,  by 
The  Centubt  Co. 


PBIKTXD  Ut   V.   B.   A 


TO  THE  READER 

This  book  has  three  sources:  the  Bible,  the 
critics,  and  my  own  imagination.  I  have  used 
whichever  seemed  to  suit  me  best  for  each 
episode,  and  have  sometimes  blended  all 
three  together 


2138290 


CONTENTS 

BOOK  I 
The  Son  of  Jesse 

FASK 

Part     I.     At  Saul's  Court 3 

Part    II.     In   the  Wilderness 85 

Part  III.     With   the   Philistines 139 

BOOK  II 

The  King 

Part      I.    The  Kingdom 183 

Part     II.     Bathsheba 249 

Part  III.     Absalom 277 


Book  I 
THE  SON  OF  JESSE 

"He  shall  give  his  angels  charge  over  thee,  to  keep  thee  in  all  thy 
ways;  they  shall  bear  thee  up  in  their  hands  lest  thou  dash  thy  joot 
against  a  stone." — Ps.  xci,  11,  12. 


PART  I 

AT  SAUL'S  COURT 

Chapter  I 

SAMUEL  was  certainly  getting  to  be  an  old  man. 
He  had  been  on  his  ass  only  an  hour,  and  the 
sun  was  still  low  in  the  sky,  yet  already  he  was  feel- 
ing stiff  and  hot,  and  the  thought  that  Saul  might  be 
close  on  his  track  was  unpleasantly  insistent.  He 
groaned  and  halted  the  ass.  Elihu,  who  was 
driving  the  cow,  halted  too. 

"Elihu,"  said  Samuel. 

"My  lord,"  replied  the  man,  flicking  av/ay  an 
insect  from  the  cow's  flank. 

"You  say  you  know  this  man  Jesse  yourself." 

"My  father  was  his  servant,  and  as  a  child  I 
lived  in  his  house." 

"Yes;  you  told  me  so." 

"Many  times,  foolish  old  man,"  muttered  Elihu 
to  himself,  crossly,  but  softly,  "but  you  don't  attend 
to  what  I  say,  and  forget  it  the  next  minute," 

Elihu  was  annoyed  with  his  master.     He  saw 

3 


4  DAVID  THE  SON  OF  JESSE 

no  sense  in  making  this  journey  to  Bethlehem  just 
when  the  hot  weather  was  beginning  to  be  disagree- 
able. "Dragging  a  cow,  too,"  he  grumbled;  "as 
if  there  were  not  enough  cows  in  Bethlehem,  that 
we  must  drag  the  beast  along  the  stony  road,  past 
the  stronghold  of  the  Jebusites,  too,  who  would  as 
soon  cut  our  throats  for  the  sake  of  a  cow  as  reap 
any  harvest  they  had  not  sown." 

Samuel  had  apparently  been  plunged  in  thought. 
He  now  looked  up  and  said : 

"We  had  better  not  delay  here — " 

"I  could  have  told  you  that,"  grunted  Elihu  in 
an  undertone. 

"We  are  too  near  Jerusalem.  When  we  are 
safely  past  it  I  will  get  down  and  walk,  for  this 
ass  has  an  uneasy  movement,  and  galls  me." 

"So  would  anything,  short  of  a  litter,"  mumbled 
Elihu,  shoving  the  cow  on  again. 

"What  did  you  say?"  and  Elihu  suddenly  found 
a  pair  of  piercingly  bright  blue  eyes,  overhung  by 
thick  white  eyebrows,  fixed  motionless  upon  his. 
It  was  a  horrible  moment.  He  gasped  for  breath, 
licked  his  lips,  and  answered  with  a  stammer: 

"Only — only — ^my  lord — that  the  ass  would  need 
some  litter  when  we  got  to  Bethlehem." 

Samuel  laughed,  and  took  his  eyes  off  Elihu, 
who  breathed  again. 


AT  SAUL'S  COURT  5 

They  were  now  passing  under  the  rocky  cliffs  on 
which  was  perched  Jerusalem,  and  cow  and  ass 
were  hit  and  prodded  as  an  encouragement  to  make 
the  best  of  their  speed.  Half  a  mile  beyond  the 
town  Samuel  stopped,  and  with  many  groans  and 
lurches  heaved  himself  off  the  ass,  and  proceeded 
slowly  on  foot. 

"As  regards  Jesse — "  said  Elihu,  presently,  in  a 
tentative  voice. 

"Well?"  said  the  Prophet. 

"When  you  were  in  Bethlehem  last  you  did  not 
visit  him,  did  you?" 

"What  should  I  visit  him  for?" 

"You  seem  interested  in  him,  now." 

"Interested?  I  am  only  going  to  make  a  sacrifice 
for  his  house — there  is  nothing  remarkable  in  that." 

"Nothing  remarkable — oh,  no — nothing  remark- 
able in  pushing  a  cow  all  the  way  from  Ramah  to 
Bethlehem — twenty  miles  if  it's  a  step — in  the  hot 
weather,  too.  Don't  you  think  Saul  would  think  it 
remarkable  if  he  heard  of  it?"  Elihu's  disgust  and 
vexation  had  got  the  better  of  his  discretion,  and  he 
felt  that  he  must  say  what  he  thought,  or  burst. 

"I  am  afraid,"  said  Samuel,  coldly,  "that  neither 
you  nor  Saul  quite  understand  the  ways  of  the 
Lord,"  and  Elihu  was  silenced  again. 

It  was  not  long  before  they  came  to  a  grove  of 


6  DAVID  THE  SON  OF  JESSE 

trees  by  the  wayside  with  a  tall  stone  standing 
among  them.  The  grove  presented  a  curious  sight, 
for  from  all  the  branches  hung,  dancing  and  quiver- 
ing in  the  light  breeze,  innumerable  rags,  of  all 
colors  and  lengths.  Elihu  had  provided  himself 
and  his  master  with  what  was  required,  and  pulling 
two  pieces  of  linen  from  his  girdle  he  handed  one 
to  Samuel,  and  tied  the  other  to  a  branch  within 
convenient  reach.  Samuel's  long  arms  stretched 
above  his  head  seemed  an  age  in  awkwardly  at- 
taching his  rag  to  the  sacred  tree.  At  last  they  sank 
by  his  side;  he  turned  to  his  servant,  who  was 
standing  still  with  an  obviously  assumed  air  of 
infinite  patience,  and  said  slowly: 

"Elihu,  you  can  wait  here;  I  am  going  over 
there" — ^pointing  vaguely  eastward — "and  I  may 
be  away  some  time.  See  that  the  ass  and  cow  do 
not  stray";  and  with  these  words  he  stepped  out 
of  the  grove,  leaving  Elihu  staring  after  him,  open- 
mouthed. 

"Mad;  mad  beyond  a  doubt,"  was  his  con- 
clusion. "The  Lord  be  praised  the  fit  did  not 
seize  him  till  we  had  reached  the  shade  of  the 
sacred  grove;  there  at  least  one  can  sleep  at  one's 
ease";  and  in  a  few  moments  the  ass  and  the  cow 
were  tethered  and  Elihu  was  on  his  back,  snoring. 

Directly  Samuel  was  out  of  the  shadow  of  the 


AT  SAUL'S  COURT  7 

trees  he  took  hold  of  the  long  cotton  gown  which 
hung  to  his  ankles  and  pulled  it  up  through  his 
leather  belt  till  his  legs  were  bare  almost  to  his 
knees.  He  had  a  considerable  way  to  walk,  over 
rough  ground,  and  needed  as  much  freedom  for 
his  limbs  as  he  could  get.  He  turned  to  the  left 
of  the  road  along  which  they  had  come,  and  went 
almost  at  right  angles  to  it,  at  first  through  vine- 
yards and  gardens,  then  through  corn-fields,  then 
through  waste  land,  going  down  hill  all  the  time. 
When  he  reached  the  waste  land  he  began  to  go 
very  cautiously,  pausing  behind  every  stone  or 
olive  tree  and  scanning  the  land  before  him  with  the 
greatest  care.  At  last  he  seemed  to  see  what  he  had 
been  looking  for.  In  the  shade  of  a  group  of  olive 
trees  half  a  dozen  men  were  sitting,  so  deep  in 
conversation  that  Samuel  was  able  to  creep  up 
behind  them,  unnoticed,  and  dispose  himself  com- 
fortably within  earshot,  entirely  unperceived  by 
them. 

"As  for  the  corn  in  the  field  of  lilies,  we  shall 
not  harvest  it  for  a  week,"  said  one,  in  an  ill- 
tempered,  aggressive  voice. 

"You  will  be  fools,  then — it  is  ripe  now  for 
harvesting,"  said  another,  with  a  sneer. 

"I  tell  you,  Jeconiah,"  cried  the  first  speaker 
with  a  rising  voice,  "I  will  do  nothing  to  gratify 


8  DAVID  THE  SON  OF  JESSE 

any  shepherd  in  Judea — what  do  /  care  where  and 
how  the  sheep  are  pastured?" 

"Hophni  is  right!"  cried  another;  "I  myself — " 
and  in  a  moment  all  the  group  were  protesting  and 
arguing  and  denying.  In  the  middle  of  the  disputa- 
tion a  long  whistle  was  heard,  and  immediately 
there  was  silence. 

"That  was  his  whistle,"  said  Jeconiah;  "there 
he  is,  coming  up  the  hillside."  There  was  another 
pause,  and  Samuel  waited  a  moment,  breathless. 
Then  he  twisted  his  head  and  got  a  glimpse  of  the 
newcomer. 

It  was  a  boy  about  fifteen  years  old,  well  grown 
but  slight,  with  a  mop  of  golden-red  hair,  and  large 
blue  smiling  eyes.  From  his  bag,  oaken  club,  and 
long  staff,  it  was  plain  he  was  a  shepherd;  from 
his  silver  bracelet,  and  the  beads  twisted  round  his 
head,  it  was  plain  he  was  not  a  servant,  but  the  son 
of  the  owner  of  the  flocks. 

"The  Lord  be  with  you,"  he  said,  and  pressed 
his  finger-tips  against  his  lips,  his  forehead,  and  his 
breast.  Samuel  noticed  the  clear,  mellow  sound 
of  his  voice  and  its  musical  intonation. 

"May  you  have  peace,"  answered  one  of  the  men. 

"Sit  down,"  said  another,  "and  let  us  consider 
about  the  pasturage  of  these  sheep  of  yours." 

"My  father's  sheep,"  suggested  the  boy. 


AT  SAUL'S  COURT  9 

"Of  course — your  father's  sheep.  You  cannot 
come  up  among  our  corn-fields;  it  is  impossible." 

"Impossible,"  insisted  Hophni;  "we  are  resolved 
against  it,  no  matter  whose  the  sheep." 

"It  does  not  rest  with  you,"  exclaimed  Jeconiah 
fiercely;  "it  is  a  custom  of  our  fathers  that  in  May, 
after  the  harvest  ..." 

"I  care  for  no  custom — no  sheep  come  into  our 
corn-fields." 

"Let  the  sheep  into  the  corn-fields!"  exclaimed 
the  boy  in  a  shocked  voice.  "Who  would  be  such 
a  heathen!  Such  a  fine  harvest  as  it  has  been.  I 
came  up  just  now  by  the  field  of  lilies  and  the  crop 
was  a  pleasure  to  look  upon." 

"We  shall  not  harvest  it  for  a  week,"  grunted 
Hophni. 

"Surely  a  few  days  more  would  improve  it — if 
only  the  Jebusites  were  not  making  raids  again. 
In  a  week,  I  fear  there  may  be  nothing  to  harvest." 

Hophni  and  his  friends  stared  at  one  another. 
They  were  horribly  near  Jerusalem. 

"Had  you  not  heard?"  continued  the  boy, 
smoothly.  "They  were  at  Geba  a  few  days  since 
and  carried  off  all  that  was  in  the  fields.  I  am 
sure  my  father  could  spare  a  man  or  two  to  help 
you,  and  then  you  would  not  mind  the  flocks  being 
in  the  bare  fields,  would  you?" 


10  DAVID  THE  SON  OF  JESSE 

"If  he  would  help  with  the  harvest  .  .  .  what 
do  you  say?"  Hophni  appealed  to  his  friends,  and 
Jeconiah  had  enough  sense  to  be  silent.  There  was 
a  whispered  consultation,  and  it  was  agreed  in  the 
end  that  in  consideration  of  some  help  to  save  the 
crop  from  the  Jebusites  the  sheep  should  be  allowed 
in  the  fields  after  the  harvest. 

"After  all,  Hophni,"  said  one  of  his  supporters 
timidly,  "it  is  the  custom  of  our  fathers.  .  .  ." 

Hophni  grunted,  but  did  not  deny  it. 

The  matter  being  settled,  the  men  rose  from  the 
ground.  A  few  minutes  were  spent  in  salutations, 
and  they  separated;  the  boy  going  down  the  hill  to 
his  flocks,  the  others  going  upward  to  their  fields 
and  vineyards.  Samuel,  too,  when  the  others  were 
out  of  sight,  got  up,  and  returned,  slowly  and  pain- 
fully, to  the  sacred  grove. 

By  the  time  he  had  reached  it,  plucked  the  un- 
willing Elihu  from  his  sleep,  untethered  the  beasts, 
and  mounted  the  ass,  the  shadows  were  lengthening. 
They  had  now  only  about  a  mile  to  go  to  Bethlehem, 
but  Samuel  was  anxious  to  arrive  in  good  time,  and 
they  made  no  delays.  At  the  foot  of  the  ascent  on 
which  Bethlehem  was  perched,  and  beside  the  gate 
in  the  wall  that  enclosed  it,  they  found  a  well,  and 
Elihu  tried  hard  to  persuade  his  master  to  wait 
and  refresh  the  beasts  and  themselves  with  a  draft 


AT  SAUL'S  COURT  11 

of  what  he  declared  was  the  most  delicious  water  in 
the  world,  but  Samuel  only  shook  his  head  im- 
patiently and  pressed  forward. 

A  child  playing  by  the  gateway  saw  them,  gave 
a  shriek,  and  disappeared  in  one  of  the  stone  huts 
which  formed  the  village.  Presently  a  cautious 
head  or  two  was  peering  out  at  them,  and  in  a  few 
moments  a  group  of  dignified  old  men  approached, 
bowing  and  saluting,  and  driving  back  the  crowd  of 
villagers  who  had  somehow  learnt  that  the  Prophet 
Samuel  had  come,  and  wanted  to  have  a  look  at  him. 

One  of  the  old  men  stepped  forward  and  said, 
in  an  anxious  voice,  "Yahweh  be  with  you.  Do 
you  come  in  peace?" 

"Yahweh  bless  and  preserve  you,"  replied 
Samuel.  "Yes,  I  come  in  peace.  I  have  come  to 
make  a  sacrifice  for  Jesse,  the  son  of  Obed,  for  him 
and  all  his  household.  Here  is  the  beast  for  the 
sacrifice." 

There  was  a  great  bustle  among  the  villagers. 
Some  rushed  off  to  Jesse's  house  to  tell  his  women 
to  prepare  for  Samuel  and  to  begin  the  arrange- 
ments for  the  feast,  some  surrounded  Elihu,  greeted 
him  as  an  old  friend,  and  led  him  and  the  cow  off 
to  the  place  of  sacrifice ;  others  began  pushing  Jesse 
forward,  shouting  out  to  him  that  he  was  in  luck — 
but  that  he  always  was  a  lucky  man. 


12  DAVID  THE  SON  OF  JESSE 

Jesse  did  not  seem  at  all  flustered  by  his  pro- 
motion. He  came  forward,  saluted  Samuel  and 
showed  hun  the  way  to  his  house.  It  was  a  big 
house,  for  Jesse  was  a  well-to-do  man;  it  had  two 
rooms  and  a  courtyard  between  them.  Preparations 
for  the  sacrifice  were  in  full  swing  and  all  the 
household  were  busy  making  ready  the  accessories 
of  the  feast — the  main  dish,  of  course,  would  be 
the  sacrifice  itself. 

Directly  Jesse  arrived  he  went  with  his  sons  into 
one  of  the  rooms,  where  they  all  purified  themselves, 
by  bathing  and  washing  their  clothes.  Then  they 
came  out  into  the  courtyard  and  found  Samuel 
waiting  for  them. 

"Jesse,"  said  the  Prophet,  solemnly,  "I  have 
come  to-day  to  choose  out  one  of  your  sons  for 
the  service  of  Yahweh.  Let  me  then  look  at  them 
one  by  one,  that  I  may  see  which  of  them  he  has 
taken  for  his  servant." 

Without  any  words  Jesse  turned  to  his  eldest 
son,  Eliab,  and  signed  to  him  to  go  to  the  Prophet. 
Samuel  looked  at  him;  he  was  tall  and  handsome; 
but  Samuel  shook  his  head  and  let  him  pass. 

"Abinadab!"  called  Jesse;  and  another  stepped 
up  to  Samuel.     He  shook  his  head  again. 

"Shammah!"  But  Shammah  too  was  rejected. 
Four  more  of  Jesse's  sons  went  up  to  Samuel,  who 


AT  SAUL'S  COURT  13 

looked  carefully  at  them  all,  but  chose  none  of  ihem. 
There  was  a  long  pause.  Samuel  was  waiting. 
At  last  he  said : 

"Are  these  all  your  sons?" 

"There  is  still  the  youngest,"  answered  Jesse. 
"He  is  in  the  fields,  keeping  the  sheep." 

"Send  and  fetch  him,"  said  Samuel;  "we  will 
not  begin  the  feast  till  he  is  here." 

At  a  sign  from  Jesse  one  of  the  young  men 
hastened  off  in  the  direction  of  the  fields  to  find  the 
shepherd,  while  another  brought  a  blanket  and 
folded  it  on  the  ground  for  the  Prophet  to  sit  on 
while  he  waited.  The  others  turned  to  their  house- 
hold affairs,  leaving  him  alone  in  the  gathering 
darkness  of  the  courtyard. 

"He  had  to  be  of  the  tribe  of  Judah,"  thought 
Samuel;  "no  other  would  meet  with  the  same  favor 
from  all  the  rest.  Besides,  Judah  grows  stronger 
every  day — the  south  of  the  country  is  all  theirs,  the 
Canaanites  no  longer  hold  up  their  heads  here,  even 
Simeon  and  Dan  are  practically  absorbed.  A  king 
from  the  tribe  of  Judah  has  a  better  chance  than 
any  other.  .  .  .  Then  as  for  this  boy  of  Jesse's. 
He  seems  a  born  leader.  Every  one  I  have  spoken 
to  seems  to  think  well  of  him  for  one  reason  or  an- 
other. If  he  can  affect  men  like  that  at  his  age 
there  is  a  chance  he  may  be  able  to  lead  the  nation 


14  DAVID  THE  SON  OF  JESSE 

later  on.  Anyhow,  I  will  risk  it.  He  is  still  a 
boy,  it  is  true,  but  Saul  will  last  a  few  years  yet- 
there  is  no  immediate  hurry.  When  Saul  gets 
worse  the  boy  must  be  brought  to  Gibeah,  and  if 
he  is  the  right  sort  he  will  manage  for  himself  after 
that.  .  .  .  Saul  must  not  get  wind  of  it,  though. 
.  .  .  Yes,  I  don't  doubt  he  had  to  be  from  Ju- 
dah.  ..." 

By  this  time  it  was  quite  dark.  Suddenly  a 
light  appeared  in  the  doorway  of  one  of  the  rooms, 
and  a  figure  stepped  through  it,  silhouetted  by  the 
lamp  some  one  else  was  holding.  It  was  the  figure 
of  a  boy,  naked,  except  for  his  loin-cloth,  from  the 
purification.  For  a  moment  the  light  behind  his 
head  made  his  golden  hair  shine  around  him  like 
a  flame;  then  he  turned  round  and  took  the  lamp 
in  his  own  hand  so  that  the  light  fell  on  his  face. 
He  stepped  through  the  dark  space  toward  the 
Prophet  who  sat  waiting  for  him,  the  beauty  of  his 
face  and  smiling  blue  eyes  lit  up  by  the  lamp  in  his 
hand,  his  white  limbs  shining  faintly,  his  step  lithe 
and  wary.  And  Samuel  heard  a  voice  in  his  heart 
say: 

"Arise,  anoint  him:  for  this  is  he." 

He  got  to  his  feet,  and  moving  toward  the  place 
where  his  ass  was  tethered  slipped  his  hand  into 


AT  SAUL'S  COURT  15 

the  saddlebag  and  took  out  a  flask.     Then  he 
turned  back  to  the  boy. 

"What  is  your  name?" 

"David,  the  son  of  Jesse." 

Samuel  paused.  He  could  not  help  remember- 
ing the  other  consecration  ...  he  had  felt  as  sure 
then  that  he  was  right  .  .  .  but  this  time,  this 
time.  .  .  . 

He  drew  David  toward  him  and  poured  the  flask 
of  oil  over  his  head,  kissed  him  on  both  cheeks  and 
said:  "David,  son  of  Jesse,  Yahweh  has  anointed 
thee  to  be  king  over  his  inheritance." 

There  was  a  pause.  David  gave  a  little  gasp, 
and  said  in  a  low  voice:  "But  Saul?  And  Saul's 
sons?" 

"Wait,"  answered  Samuel  in  as  low  a  voice,  "the 
time  of  your  kingdom  is  not  till  after  the  kingdom 
of  Saul.  And  if  you  value  my  life  or  yours  tell  no 
one  of  what  I  have  done  to  you." 

Nothing  more  passed  between  them.  They  went 
back  into  the  living-room,  where  the  feast  was  now 
ready,  and  in  a  few  moments  all  the  household  were 
sitting  on  the  floor  enjoying  the  rare  meal  of  beef. 
They  ate  and  drank  and  made  merry,  and  in  the 
faint  light  of  the  poor  oil  lamps  no  one  noticed  that 
David's  hair  was  wet  and  his  forehead  shining,  and 


16  DAVID  THE  SON  OF  JESSE 

that  his  eyes  smiled  more  brilliantly  than  before. 
"Sing  to  us,  David,"  said  Jesse,  when  the  eating 
and  drinking  slackened.     David  took  his  harp  from 
wall  and  sang  the  old  song  of  his  fathers: 

Judah,  all  thy  brethren  shall  praise  thee; 

Thy  hand  shall  be  upon  the  neck  of  thine  enemy, 

Thy  father's  sons  shall  bow  down  before  thee.  .  .  . 

The  sceptre  shall  not  depart  from  Judah, 
Nor  the  ruler's  staff  from  between  his  feet. 
Until  peace  has  come  to  the  country, 
And  unto  him  shall  the  people  be  obedient.  .  .  . 


Chapter  II 

Four  young  men  were  together  under  the  long  blue 
shadow  of  one  of  the  rocks  in  the  desert  of  Judea. 
Two  of  them  had  thrown  off  their  outer  garments 
and  were  engaged  in  wrestling;  a  third — a  boy  of 
about  sixteen — was  watching  them  from  the  top  of 
the  rock,  and  shouting  words  of  encouragement  now 
to  one,  now  to  the  other;  the  fourth  was  looking  on 
the  ground  for  pieces  of  stone  suitable  to  use  in  his 
sling.  Suddenly  one  of  the  wrestlers  gave  a  shout, 
and  threw  his  opponent  to  the  ground. 


AT  SAUL'S  COURT  17 

*'Well  done,  Joab!  Well  done!"  cried  the  boy, 
waving  his  arms. 

"Now,  David,"  said  Joab,  a  trifle  breathlessly, 
"I  'm  ready  for  you." 

"No,  thank  you,"  said  David,  looking  up  from 
the  ground  and  smiling.  "I  want  to  be  able  to 
walk  home  for  the  feast  of  the  new  moon,  and  not 
lie  in  one  of  the  caves,  with  a  broken  leg." 

"You  wait  a  bit,  Joab,"  said  Abishai  crossly, 
sitting  up  and  rubbing  the  back  of  his  leg.  "Next 
time  I  '11  settle  you  in  a  way  you  won't  like." 

"Next  time!  next  time!"  laughed  Joab;  "next 
time  will  be  like  last  time,  and  the  time  before  1 
Now,  Asahel,  if  David  's  afraid  of  me,  I'll  take  you 
on." 

"Don't  you  touch  him!"  cried  Abishai;  "you're 
so  rough,  you  '11  injure  him — a  child  like  that!" 

"I  'm  not  a  child!  I  'm  not  afraid  of  him!  I  '11 
fight  him  if  David  won't!"  cried  Asahel  eagerly, 
slipping  down  from  the  rock  and  beginning  to  pull 
off  his  coat. 

"Asahel!"  said  David  suddenly.  "I  believe  I 
heard  one  of  the  lambs  down  in  the  gully  bleat.  I 
should  n't  be  surprised  if  it  was  that  lion  again — 
he  's  getting  so  daring.  Run  and  see  what  it  is,  do, 
and  call  out  if  I  'm  wanted." 

"All  right."     Asahel  was  proud  of  his  speed. 


18  DAVID  THE  SON  OF  JESSE 

and  forgetting  Joab's  defiance  he  bounded  off  to- 
ward the  sound  of  the  bleating. 

Joab  laughed.  "Asahel  might  be  one  of  David's 
precious  lambs,"  he  said,  and  began  to  put  on  his 
coat,  for  evening  had  come  and  there  is  a  very  quick 
drop  in  temperature  in  the  Judean  desert  at  night. 
Abishai  dragged  himself  up  from  the  ground  with 
a  groan  and  began  limping  toward  the  rock  on 
which  he  had  thrown  his  coat;  before  he  had 
reached  it  David  swung  himself  up,  pulled  down 
the  coat  and  threw  it  at  Abishai's  feet. 

"David!  David!"  Asahel's  voice  sounded  thin 
and  distant.     "David!  the  lion!" 

"Ah!  son  of  Azazel!"  ejaculated  David,  and 
seizing  his  club  and  his  sling  he  bounded  off  with 
a  step  almost  as  rapid  as  that  of  Asahel  himself. 

Joab  and  Abishai,  left  alone  together,  did  not 
speak.  Joab  was  thinking:  "David  is  a  strong  fel- 
low; but  though  he  makes  a  joke  of  it  he  is  serious 
enough  in  knowing  I  am  his  master  at  wrestling. 
As  for  Abishai,  I  am  sick  of  knocking  him  down. 
Some  day  I  will  go  out  against  the  Philistines,  in 
the  king's  army,  and  show  them  how  I  can  wres- 
tle. .  .  ." 

Abishai  was  thinking:  "Joab  thinks  he  is  better 
than  I  am  at  wrestling,  but  he  only  gets  me  down 
by  a  trick — as  far  as  strength  goes  I  am  his  master. 


AT  SAUL'S  COURT  19 

I  will  get  David  to  show  me  one  of  his  tricks — ' 
David  will  do  anything  for  me — and  then  we  shall 
see  what  will  happen  to  Joab.  .  .  ." 

They  were  both  far  enough  away  from  the  rock 
where  they  were  sitting,  when  the  sound  of  a  shout 
at  a  great  distance  reached  them.  Immediately  they 
were  listening  keenly;  Joab  jumped  up  and  an- 
swered with  as  loud  a  shout  as  he  could  achieve. 
"That  was  not  David,"  said  Abishai. 
"No,"  said  Joab,  "David  went  south.  That 
shout  came  from  the  west." 

"A  messenger  from  Bethlehem,"  suggested  Abis- 
hai. 

The  shout  was  repeated,  nearer  at  hand. 
"Very  likely,"  agreed  Joab,  and  again  gave  his 
answering  call.  In  a  few  minutes  a  man  appeared, 
coming  down  the  track  from  the  west,  and  it  was 
not  long  before  he  reached  the  place  where  the 
brothers  sat. 

When  he  saw  there  only  two,  and  that  they  were 
Joab  and  Abishai,  his  face  fell. 

"Where  is  David?"  he  asked.     "Jesse  has  sent 
me  for  him  in  a  hurry." 

"He's    not    far    off,"    replied    Joab.     "Here's 
Asahel — David  won't  be  far  behind." 

"He  killed  it!    he  killed  it!"   shouted  Asahel, 
jumping  and  dancing  with  delight  as  he  came  to- 


20  DAVID  THE  SON  OF  JESSE 

ward  them.  "It  was  a  lion  and  he  killed  it.  And 
there  was  a  bear  too.  Hullo,  Ithra,  what  are  you 
doing  here?    David  has  just  killed  a  lion.  .  .  ." 

David  came  up  a  few  yards  behind  Asahel,  and 
hearing  from  Ithra  that  his  father  wanted  him  and 
was  in  a  hurry,  he  stopped  for  nothing,  but  picked 
up  his  bag,  called  out  to  his  nephews  to  mind  the 
sheep,  and  set  off  at  such  a  pace  up  the  hill  that 
it  was  evident  he  would  not  be  long  in  getting  home. 
The  others  lingered  round  Asahel  and  listened  to 
his  eager  story  of  how  the  lion  had  been  killed  and 
the  bear  driven  off. 

David  had  a  stiff  two-hours'  climb  before  him. 
There  was  now  practically  no  light  left,  but  the 
ground  was  so  familiar  to  him  that  he  covered  it 
almost  as  quickly  as  he  would  have  done  by  day. 
In  a  few  minutes  the  rhythm  of  his  movement  had 
caused  a  curious  quickening  of  his  mind.  Start- 
ing from  the  obvious  wonder  at  what  caused  his 
father  to  send  for  him  at  such  an  hour,  he  was  soon 
weaving  webs  of  romance,  triumph,  and  mystery, 
the  shuttle  in  his  brain  passing  rapidly  to  and  fro 
between  the  threads  of  the  past  and  the  future. 

The  starting  point  of  all  his  dreams  was  now 
that  wonderful  scene  in  his  father's  courtyard  where 
he  had  first  been  brought  face  to  face  with  a 
prophet.    He  seemed  again  to  see,  peering  into  his 


AT  SAUL'S  COURT  21 

own  eyes,  scanning  them,  searching,  he  felt,  his  in- 
most thoughts  and  weaknesses,  the  old  man's  fiery 
eyes,  deep-set  in  his  white,  thick-lined  face.  Again 
he  heard  the  low  voice,  shaking  yet  emphatic,  an- 
nounce him  as  the  Lord's  anointed;  again  he  felt 
the  thick,  sweet-smelling  oil  drop  on  his  hair,  trickle 
down  his  neck,  and  lodge,  a  rich  pool,  in  the  hollow 
of  his  collar  bone.  .  .  . 

Since  then  he  had  heard  nothing  of  Samuel. 
Now,  perhaps,  the  time  had  come.  .  .  .     Saul  was 
dead,  and  Samuel  had  come  for  him  to  take  him  to 
Nob  and  proclaim  him  king.     They  would  journey 
northwards  together,  through  the  night,  Samuel  in- 
structing him  as  to  his  policy  in  the  difficult  situa- 
tion in  which  he  would  find  himself.  .  .  .     He 
would  listen  to  everything  and  say  nothing,  but 
when  it  came  to  acting  he  would  use  his  own  judg- 
ment— Samuel    should    find   he   was   no   puppet- 
king.  .  .  .     When  they  reached  Nob — well,  what 
about  Jonathan?  .  .  .  and  the  Benjamite  guards 
of  the  king?  .  .  .     Oh  .  .  .  Samuel  would  have 
collected  a  few  strong  Judeans  at  Nob — they  would 
have  arranged  to  arm  his  nephews  and  one  or  two 
others  he  knew,  and  to  send  them  northwards  as 
quickly  as  possible — so  that  by  the  time  Jonathan 
arrived  they  would  be  ready  for  him. 

David's  pulse  beat  quicker  and  the  scene  became 


22  DAVID  THE  SON  OF  JESSE 

more  vivid.  "Jonathan  comes  forward  at  the  head 
of  his  men;  Samuel  lays  his  hand  on  me  and  cries, 
'This  is  the  Lord's  anointed';  the  Benjamites  look 
at  me — some  throw  down  their  weapons,  some  slink 
over  to  my  side — but  the  rest  draw  close  to  Jon- 
athan. Jonathan,  tall,  strong,  angry,  and  frightful 
to  behold,  steps  out  from  among  them  and  cries  out: 
'David,  son  of  Jesse,  let  us  fight  for  the  kingdom ! ' 
I  break  from  Samuel  and  the  fight  begins  .  .  . 
well,  in  the  end  I  hit  him  a  violent  blow  on  the  head 
with  my  club,  and  he  lies  dead  at  my  feet  .  .  .  the 
onlookers  cry,  'Long  live  King  David ! '  I  fall  back 
bleeding  and  triumphant  into  Samuel's  arms.  .  .  . 
Oh !  here  is  the  well !  I  must  have  come  up  the  hill 
at  a  good  pace." 

David  took  a  deep  draft  of  the  water,  threw  a 
few  handfuls  of  it  over  his  head  and  chest,  and  in 
five  minutes  had  reached  his  father's  house. 

As  he  pushed  his  way  through  the  courtyard,  and 
then  stooped  to  pass  through  the  low  doorway  into 
the  room  beyond,  he  murmured  to  himself: 

"And  Asahel  shall  be  my  armor-bearer — ^but  I  '11 
keep  that  part  of  it  till  later." 

He  saw  at  once  in  the  dim  light  that  there  was 
a  stranger  there;  and  in  a  moment  recognized  him 
as  the  Prophet's  servant,  Elihu,  a  man  who,  in 
former  years,  had  been  a  servant  of  his  father's. 


AT  SAUL'S  COURT  23 

He  noticed,  too,  that  his  mother  and  sisters  were 
unusually  busy — it  was  clear  that  something  ex- 
ceptional was  on  foot, 

"David?  Is  that  you,  my  son?"  asked  Jesse, 
hearing  him  come  in, 

"Yes,  Father," 

"You  have  been  very  quick." 

"Ithra  said  you  were  in  a  hurry,"  David  looked 
in  his  father's  face  and  smiled. 

"Yes.  Here  is  Elihu,  a  messenger  from  our  lord 
the  king.  It  seems  you  are  wanted,  David,  to  sing 
to  him  when  he  is  ill ;  your  mother  is  making  ready 
some  things  for  you  to  take  him  as  a  present,  that 
he  may  be  pleased  to  see  you.  .  ,  .  Rest  now,  and 
you  shall  start  before  dawn." 

It  was  rather  disappointing,  David  thought,  as 
he  lay  down  in  the  dark,  that  it  was  only  Saul  who 
wanted  him  to  play  the  harp  and  sing — and  yet,  how 
exciting  to  be  leaving  Bethlehem  to-morrow,  to  be 
going  to  Gibeah,  to  the  king's  house.  .  .  . 

Just  then  a  hand  touched  his  head,  and  a  voice 
whispered : 

"David.  .  .  ." 

"Mother!"  he  answered,  recognizing  her  through 
the  darkness. 

"My  darling  David  .  .  .  going  away  to-morrow. 
.  .  .     Ah,  you  will  never  come  back." 


24  DAVID  THE  SON  OF  JESSE 

"Never  come  back?  Dearest  Mother,  of  course 
I  shall  come  back  ...  It  is  only  twelve  miles 
off.  .  .  ." 

"No  ...  it  will  never  be  this  David  .  .  .  but 
don't  forget  us.  .  .  ." 

"Of  course  not  .  .  .  never,  never  .  .  ."  He  fon- 
dled her  gently. 

"When  you  come  back  you  will  be  a  great 
man.  .  .  ." 

"Yes — perhaps — but  I  shall  always  be  your 
David." 

She  sighed,  caressed  his  head,  and  left  him.  As 
he  lay  back  in  the  darkness  he  saw  a  picture  of 
himself  striking  the  harp,  while  King  Saul  and  the 
mighty  men  of  Benjamin  stood  around  him  in 
admiration.  ... 


Chapter  III 

"Ah,"  Elihu  was  saying,  as  they  jogged  along  the 
road  to  Gibeah  next  morning,  "well  I  know  this 
road  and  well  I  remember  the  last  time  I  came  along 
it.  You  were  only  a  child  then,  David.  It  was 
when  the  Prophet  Samuel  and  I  came  to  make  a 
sacrifice  at  your  father's  house.     Do  you  remember 


AT  SAUL'S  COURT  25 

it?  Or  perhaps  you  were  away  in  the  fields  with 
the  sheep." 

"I  remember  it,"  answered  David;  "but  tell  me, 
Elihu,  how  do  you  come  to  be  going  messages  for 
Saul,  if  you  are  a  servant  of  Samuel?" 

"I  was  a  servant  of  Samuel's,  true  enough;  and 
you  may  say  I  am  still — and  yet  I  am  a  servant 
of  Saul's!  .  .  .  Well,  I  won't  puzzle  you  any 
more — it 's  like  this.  Samuel  and  Saul  are  not 
friends  now,  and  Samuel  won't  go  to  see  Saul;  why, 
for  years — since  before  that  time  he  came  to 
sacrifice  at  your  father's  house — he  has  n't  been  to 
Gibeah.  But  for  all  that  he  likes  to  know  what 
goes  on  there,  so  I  serve  in  the  king's  house,  and 
from  time  to  time  go  over  to  Ramah  and  tell  Samuel 
the  news." 

David  stared  at  Elihu,  and  stroked  his  chin. 

"I  see,"  he  said,  and  thought  a  long  time.  Pres- 
ently he  had  another  question. 

"How  came  the  king  to  think  of  me  as  a  harp 
player?" 

"Ah,  that  was  my  doing,  David,  and  if  you  make 
a  success  of  it  I  hope  you  will  remember  me.  This 
was  how  it  happened.  Saul  has  been  possessed  of 
a  devil  for  a  long  time,  and  the  devil  is  getting 
worse  and  Saul  is  sometimes  a  terror.  Now,  as 
Samuel  said  to  me  one  day,  music  is  well  known  to 


26  DAVID  THE  SON  OF  JESSE 

fdghten  devils,  and  all  of  us  about  the  king  had 
been  searching  our  minds  for  weeks  to  think  of  some 
skilful  harp  player  who  could  attend  him  when  he 
has  the  fit.  So  one  day  when  I  was  at  Ramah  and 
happened  to  mention  something  I  had  done  when  I 
lived  in  Jesse's  house,  'Ah,'  says  Samuel,  'had  n't  he 
a  son  who  played  the  harp?'  'To  be  sure  he  has,' 
said  I,  'David,  his  youngest,  and  a  pretty  boy  he 
was' — for  you  were  pretty  when  you  were  a  child, 
David.  'Yes,'  says  Samuel,  'and  if  I  remember 
right  his  singing  was  as  good  as  his  playing. 
Would  not  he  do  for  the  king,  Elihu?'  'Why,'  said 
I,  'he  is  the  very  one,  so  I  shall  tell  Saul.'  And  so 
I  did.  And  the  very  next  day  Saul  had  me  off  to 
Bethlehem  to  fetch  you.  So  you  see  whom  you 
have  to  thank  in  the  matter." 

"Yes,"  said  David,  "I  see  whom  I  have  to  thank." 
And  his  heart  sank  within  him  for  a  moment,  for 
it  seemed  to  him  the  court  would  be  a  more  slippery 
place  than  he  had  suspected,  and  one  where  it  would 
be  perilously  easy  to  lose  one's  footing.  "But  then," 
he  thought,  "it  is  clear  that  Samuel  is  concerned  in 
what  happens  to  me,  and  he — and  the  Lord — will 
be  my  helper." 

They  had  started  in  good  time,  and  it  was  still 
morning  when  they  came  in  sight  of  the  low-built 
huts  that  made  the  town  of  Gibeah.     Saul's  house 


AT  SAUL'S  COURT  27 

consisted  of  a  group  of  these  small  huts,  placed 
around  a  courtyard,  and  at  this  hour  the  yard  was 
full  of  men  and  beasts,  the  inevitable  accompani- 
ment of  a  center  of  government.  David  took  from 
off  his  ass  the  presents  Jesse  had  sent  the  king,  and 
Elihu  called  to  a  boy  to  come  and  take  charge  of 
them.  Then  Elihu  forced  his  way  through  the 
throng  to  the  door  of  one  of  the  huts  and  was  pres- 
ently beckoning  to  David  and  the  boy  to  come  that 
way.  When  David  reached  the  door  he  found  him- 
self in  front  of  a  big,  burly  man  with  black  eyes, 
and  black  eyebrows  nearly  meeting  across  his  fore- 
head. 

"Are  you  David?"  he  said,  putting  his  hand  on 
his  shoulder.  "Well,  go  in  there;  he's  anxious  to 
see  you." 

David  stooped,  and  stood  up  in  the  king's 
chamber. 

The  room  was  bigger,  loftier,  and,  above  all, 
lighter  than  any  he  had  been  in  before.  Though 
it  was  not  yet  midday  he  saw  everything  in  the 
room,  quite  clearly.  In  one  corner  were  the  tera- 
phim — long  shapeless  bits  of  wood,  shiny  from  the 
caresses  of  many  pleading  and  adoring  hands.  At 
the  back  of  the  room,  next  to  the  wall,  ran  a  long 
bench ;  in  front  of  it  went  a  long  table.  The  bench 
was  covered  with  hangings  and  rugs — amazingly 


28  DAVID  THE  SON  OF  JESSE 

rich  and  fine  they  seemed  to  David — and  in  the 
middle,  where  it  was  raised  somewhat,  and  sep- 
arated from  the  rest,  a  man  was  sitting. 

He  was  sunk  among  the  cushions  on  his  seat,  his 
head  hanging  down  on  his  breast,  his  fingers  play- 
ing listlessly  with  his  beard.  At  David's  step  he 
looked  up  quickly,  showing  a  white  face,  and  blaz- 
ing hot  eyes,  with  circles  under  them  which  looked 
as  if  they  had  been  marked  in  with  charcoal. 

"Who  are  you?"  he  cried  out,  jumping  up  in  his 
seat  and  beginning  to  fumble  in  his  belt.  "How 
did  you  come  here?  Who  let  you  in?  Abner! 
Abner!  who  is  this?" 

David  ran  forward,  holding  out  his  hands,  and 
when  he  was  near  made  a  low  obeisance. 

"I  am  David,  the  son  of  Jesse  the  Bethlehemite, 
come  to  be  my  lord's  servant  and  harp  player." 

"Ah  .  .  .  David  .  .  ."  answered  Saul,  sinking 
back;  "I  have  been  waiting  for  you.  .  .  .  What 
is  that  boy  doing?"  he  asked,  his  voice  rising  again 
sharply. 

"He  only  carries  a  few  small  presents  my  father 
ventures  to  send  to  my  lord — some  bread  my  mother 
made,  a  kid,  and  a  bottle  of  wine.  No  doubt  my 
lord  has  much  better  wine,  but  we  think  highly  of 
this — it  comes  from  a  grape  we  call  the  'hen  and 
chicken,'  and  this  year  the  vintage  has  been  very 


AT  SAUL'S  COURT  29 

sweet.  As  for  the  kid,  it  should  have  been  a  lamb, 
but  we  have  been  unfortunate  this  spring  with  our 
lambs.  A  lion  has  been  ravaging  the  flocks — no 
longer  ago  than  yesterday  he  was  out,  and  a  bear 
with  him." 

"Yesterday,  did  you  say?  Did  they  do  much 
damage?" 

"Not  this  time,  my  lord.  .  .  .  Directly  I  found 
there  was  a  lion  there  I  crept  down  into  the  gully 
to  see  what  he  was  doing.  He  had  picked  up  a 
lamb  in  his  mouth  and  was  making  off,  so  I  ran 
after  him  and  hit  his  mouth  with  my  club.  That 
made  him  drop  the  lamb  and  come  for  me.  I  let 
him  get  quite  near  and  then  caught  hold  of  his 
beard  with  one  hand  and  hit  him  with  the  club  till 
I  had  finished  him." 

Saul's  red  eyes  had  been  following  eagerly. 
"Well  done— and  the  bear?" 

"The  bear  was  kind  enough  to  wait  till  I  had 
settled  with  the  lion;  then  he  came  creeping  out  of 
a  cave  a  good  hundred  yards  off.  I  was  tired  with 
the  drubbing  I  had  given  one  thief,  so  did  not  care 
to  engage  in  a  tussle  with  the  other.  I  took  out 
my  sling  and  sent  a  stone  which  caught  my  Lord 
Bear  on  the  face — it  must  have  been  his  eye,  for 
he  fell  down,  and  did  not  get  up  again." 

Saul  threw  himself  back,  laughing  uproariously. 


30  DAVID  THE  SON  OF  JESSE 

"Well  done!  well  done! "  he  cried.  "Do  so  with 
the  Philistines  and  you  will  be  a  famous  man." 
Then  he  began  to  shout,  "Abner!  Abner!  Abner! 
Why  don't  you  come,  Abner?" 

A  moment  later  the  big,  black-faced  man  who 
had  received  David  came  in  and  made  a  clumsy 
bow  to  Saul. 

"Abner,  this  is  David."  Saul  spoke  in  a  quick, 
jerky,  excited  way,  laughing  queerly  between  the 
sentences.  "Do  you  see  him?  Is  n't  he  beautiful? 
Look  at  his  golden  hair — look  at  his  smiling  eyes — 
Ah !  he  's  a  beautiful  boy !  and  as  wise  as  he  's 
beautiful,  and  as  brave  as  he  's  wise.  .  .  .  And 
Abner — why  did  I  want  you? — Oh  yes,  send  to 
thank  .  .  .  Josiah  for  his  gifts — such  choice  gifts, 
I  am  ashamed  to  take  them — and  tell  him,  Abner, 
tell  him  that  David  has  found  favor  in  my  sight. 
Do  you  hear?  What  are  you  waiting  for?  Go 
and  do  these  things  at  once,  at  once,  at  once.  Now, 
David,  sit  down  there  and  let  me  hear  more.  .  .  ." 

Abner  came  out  of  the  king's  room  looking 
blacker  than  ever. 

"Ha,  Jonathan!"  he  said  to  a  young  man  who 
caught  hold  of  his  coat  and  looked  at  him  ques- 
tioningly.  "He  's  beginning  one  of  his  wild,  ex- 
citable moods  ...  We  shall  have  another  fit  by  the 
evening,  I  have  n't  a  doubt.  .  .  ." 


AT  SAUL'S  COURT  31 

Chapter  IV 

Abner  was  unfortunately  right.  After  an  out- 
burst of  frenzied  excitement,  started,  apparently, 
by  David's  appearance,  Saul  suddenly  collapsed, 
under  a  reaction  as  powerful  and  more  devastat- 
ing. He  ordered  away  every  one  who  came  near 
him,  had  curtains  hung  up  to  exclude  every  ray  of 
light,  and  finally  took  refuge  in  the  women's  apart- 
ments, flinging  himself  down  on  a  pile  of  rugs  and 
burying  his  face  from  sight.  His  whole  body  was 
shaken  with  violent  sobs,  and  his  teeth  chattered. 
Every  few  moments  a  groan  burst  from  him,  seem- 
ing to  tear  his  lungs  as  it  escaped.  He  was  quite 
lost  to  the  world  of  sense  around;  the  waves  of 
some  terrible  ocean,  ordinarily  hidden  and  con- 
trolled by  the  subtle  and  ingenious  mechanism  of 
the  mind,  had  temporarily  swept  away  the  gates 
and  banks  that  kept  it  in  check,  or  diverted  it  into 
safe  channels,  and  submerged  his  whole  being  under 
its  dark  and  stormy  waters. 

This  was  the  time  when  the  psychiatry  of  the 
day  declared  that  the  harp  was  indicated;  and  ac- 
cordingly David,  harp  in  hand,  was  thrust  into  the 
darkened  room  where  the  wretched  man  lay. 

The  boy  at  first  crouched  silent  and  motionless 


32  DAVID  THE  SON  OF  JESSE 

in  a  comer.  He  had  never  known  anything  like 
this.  He  did  not  for  a  moment  doubt  that  some 
devil  had  possession  of  the  king.  He  did  doubt 
whether  Yahweh  was  mighty  enough  to  deal  with 
it.  He  was  himself,  in  some  strange  way,  affected 
by  the  terrible  emotions  which  seemed  to  be  rend- 
ing Saul. 

"Is  this  real?"  he  said  to  himself,  "or  am  I  in 
one  of  my  dreams?  .  .  .  Why  is  my  heart  beat- 
ing so?  .  .  .    What  will  happen  next?" 

Directly  curiosity  awoke  he  felt  calmer,  though 
the  whole  business  still  seemed  unreal.  He  picked 
up  his  harp,  and  moved  gently  across  the  room  to 
where  Saul  lay.  Still  half  blind  in  the  darkness, 
he  put  out  his  hand  to  feel  his  way,  and  touched  a 
quivering  body  .  .  .  For  a  moment  it  was  still,  and 
he  quickly  withdrew  his  hand  .  .  .  The  quivering, 
he  was  aware,  immediately  began  again.  After  a 
moment's  hesitation  he  put  his  hand  out  once  more, 
and  this  time  laid  it  firmly  on  the  king's  shoulder. 
Again  there  was  a  period  of  stillness ;  then  the  body 
turned  slightly  and  a  weak,  trembling  voice  whis- 
pered: 

"Who  is  that?" 

"David,"  he  answered,  very  clearly,  but  very 
softly. 

"David"  .  .  .  repeated  the  other  .  .  .  Silence; 


AT  SAUL'S  COURT  33 

and  then  the  body  began  to  tremble  and  the  teeth 
to  chatter. 

But  David,  who  had  felt  the  pleasure  of  exercis- 
ing power,  was  vexed  to  find  his  success  so  short- 
lived, and  without  considering  the  unsuitability  of 
such  behavior  toward  a  king  said,  still  in  a  low 
voice,  but  with  great  decision: 

"Hush  ...  do  not  shiver  so.  .  .  ." 

The  king  was  quiet. 

Now,  thought  David,  is  the  time  for  the  harp; 
he  picked  it  up  and  without  conscious  selection 
began  to  sing  the  first  quiet,  soothing  tune  that 
came  into  his  head.  It  happened  to  be  a  lullaby 
— the  lullaby  with  which  his  mother  had  always 
sung  him  to  sleep  as  a  child. 

Close  your  eyes,  close  your  eyes,  little  child, 
The  sky  is  dark,  the  hills  are  dark, 
Close  your  eyes. 

Close  your  eyes,  close  your  eyes,  little  love, 
The  birds  sleep,  the  beasts  sleep, 
Close  ycur  eyes. 

Close  your  eyes,  close  your  eyes,  little  prince, 
God  watches,  I  watch. 
Close  your  eyes.  ... 

By  this  time  David  was  accustomed  to  the  dark- 


34  DAVID  THE  SON  OF  JESSE 

ness,  and  he  could  see  Saul  looking  restlessly  here 
and  there  and  panting  like  a  frightened  animal. 
As  he  sang,  however,  fixing  his  own  gaze  on  the 
sick  man's,  he  found  it,  too,  becoming  fixed  .  .  . 
and  as  he  continued,  insistently,  over  and  over 
again,  "Close  your  eyes,  close  your  eyes  .  .  ."  he 
saw  the  red  eyes  close — the  panting  become  still. 
At  last  Saul  slept. 

For  a  long  time  the  two  remained  thus  without 
moving.  David  himself  was  half  dazed  by  the 
success  of  his  efforts,  the  strangeness  of  the  scene, 
and  the  curious,  contagious  emotion  that  he  seemed 
to  have  caught  from  the  sufferer.  He  was  too  much 
agitated  to  make  daydreams;  his  thoughts  seemed 
to  come  in  great  flashes,  leaving  big  blanks  of  dark 
non-consciousness  in  between. 

"Shall  I  succeed  again?  .  .  .  Will  it  come 
often?  .  .  .  How  will  he  be  when  he  wakes? 
.  .  .  He  was  different  this  morning.  .  .  .  Then 
he  laughed  too  much.  .  .  .  Sometimes  he  will  be 
angry.  .  .  .  After  all,  it 's  very  exciting.  ...  I 
managed  it  all  right.  ..." 

Now  all  this  time  David  had  thought  that  he 
and  Saul  were  alone  together.  Suddenly,  from 
behind  the  rugs  on  which  Saul  lay,  appeared  the 
head  of  a  girl.  She  had  been  crouching  on  the 
ground,  her  face  hidden,  her  clothes  mingling  with 


AT  SAUL'S  COURT  35 

the  draperies  on  the  couch,  and  when  she  lifted  her 
head  David  started  so  violently  that  the  harp 
dropped  from  his  hand. 

She  frowned,  and  put  a  finger  to  her  lip. 

David  blushed  furiously,  picked  up  the  harp, 
and  stared  at  her. 

She  gazed  back  at  him  and  smiled;  then  slowly, 
so  slowly  that  in  the  dim  light  he  almost  doubted 
his  own  eyes,  a  delicate  blush  tinged  her  face  and 
her  eyes  fell.  Without  any  sound  she  rose  to  her 
feet,  and  with  still  downcast  eyes  she  disappeared 
behind  a  curtain. 


Chapter  V 

The  next  day  Saul  still  needed  the  services  of 
David.  The  violent  fancy  he  had  taken  to  him 
seemed  to  continue,  though  apparently  his  recollec- 
tions of  the  events  of  the  previous  night  were  ex- 
tremely nebulous.  He  did  not  speak  or  move  much, 
but  kept  David  beside  him  and  occasionally  made 
him  sing.  Toward  nightfall  the  doorkeeper  an- 
nounced that  Abner  wished  to  see  the  king,  and 
Saul,  who  was  now  rapidly  recovering,  ordered  him 
to  be  admitted. 


36  DAVID  THE  SON  OF  JESSE 

After  the  usual  salutations  and  greetings  Abner 
came  quickly  to  business.  News  was  coming  in 
that  the  Philistines  were  preparing  for  war.  Jona- 
than had  seen  the  messengers  and  was  uneasy.  He 
wished  to  go  out  with  a  few  men  on  a  reconnaissance 
to  hear  what  the  people  of  Dan  thought  about  the 
situation.  Had  he  the  king's  permission  for  such 
an  expedition? 

Saul  sighed,  but  agreed  it  was  the  best  thing 
to  be  done,  and  a  few  moments  later  Jonathan 
came  in,  received  his  father's  blessing,  and  was 
off.  David,  sitting  in  the  darkness  behind  Saul's 
couch,  watched  him  curiously,  thinking  to  himself 
that  this  was  the  man  from  whom  Samuel  and  he 
were  to  pluck  the  power  and  the  throne.  ...  He 
could  not  help  smiling  as  he  looked,  for  Jonathan's 
calm,  open  face  was  so  different  from  the  wild,  ruth- 
less expression  he  had  pictured  to  himself.  How 
would  it  come  about?  Perhaps  Jonathan  would 
fall  into  the  hands  of  the  Philistines  on  this  very 
expedition  and  lose  his  life,  and  then  Saul  would 
adopt — well,  Armoni  and  Meribaal  and  Ishbaal 
could  easily  be  killed  by  the  Philistines  too.  .  .  . 

Several  weeks  passed  quietly  away.  Jonathan 
was  constantly  going  and  coming.  Abner  was 
looking  over  arms  and  equipment,  and  all  the  young 
men    were   exercising   themselves    and    practising 


AT  SAUL'S  COURT  37 

their  skill  in  throwing  lances  and  slinging  stones. 
David,  with  his  experience  as  a  shepherd,  soon 
gained  a  reputation  among  them  for  the  accuracy 
and  strength  of  his  slinging,  and  Saul,  after  watch- 
ing him  one  whole  morning,  declared  he  should  be 
his  armor-bearer. 

At  last  news  arrived  that  the  Philistine  army  had 
set  out  from  Gath.  Saul,  Abner,  and  Jonathan 
held  a  council  of  war,  and  it  was  decided  that 
Jonathan  should  start  south  with  a  first  contingent 
the  next  evening,  while  Saul  and  Abner  should 
follow  the  day  after  with  the  rest  of  the  men  who 
might  come  in  from  the  outlying  tribes.  They  were 
to  meet  at  Azekah,  a  slope  to  the  north  of  one  of 
the  passes  leading  from  Philistia  into  the  heart 
of  the  Judean  country. 

Most  of  that  day  David  spent  in  the  courtyard 
and  watched  the  tribesmen  arriving  and  being 
marshaled  into  their  hundreds  and  thousands. 
They  were  armed  in  primitive  fashion  with  a  club 
and  sling,  or  a  rough  spear  with  a  stone  head,  oi 
sometimes — but  very  rarely — a  bronze  head.  There 
were  no  iron  weapons  at  all,  and  indeed  David  had 
never  heard  of  such  things,  though  he  knew  that 
some  of  the  tribesmen  had  iron  plowshares.  He 
could  not  understand  Jonathan's  serious  look,  nor 
the  number  of  times  he  shook  his  head  and  mur- 


38  DAVID  THE  SON  OF  JESSE 

mured  that  things  were  in  a  bad  way.  To  David's 
eyes  the  men  were  stalwart,  the  arms  in  good  condi- 
tion, and  if  the  omens  turned  out  favorable  there 
was  no  reason  they  should  not  exterminate  the 
Philistines  to  the  last  man.  When  the  men  were 
ready  and  he  saw  Jonathan  for  the  first  time  in  his 
bronze  armor,  and  saw  him  pull  an  iron  sword 
from  a  scabbard  at  his  side  and  wave  it  in  the  air, 
David  was  convinced  that  it  would  be  altogether 
impossible  for  any  army  to  resist  the  Israelites — he 
watched  them  march  out  of  Gibeah  with  the  thrill 
and  tingle  of  undaunted  confidence. 

On  the  following  morning  the  rest  of  the 
Israelites  set  out.  David  now  found  himself  the 
delighted  bearer  of  Saul's  armor — even  heavier  and 
more  beautifully  chased  than  Jonathan's — and  on 
the  way  to  the  camp  David's  thoughts  were  fully 
occupied  with  the  wonderful  adventures  in  which  he 
was  to  win  from  the  Philistines  as  superb  an  outfit 
for  himself. 

It  was  too  dark  when  they  arrived  to  see  anything 
of  the  situation  of  the  camp,  but  daylight  brought 
understanding.  Saul's  army  was  on  the  top  of  a 
steep  bluff,  facing  southwest.  Below  them  was  a 
rich  valley,  about  a  quarter  of  a  mile  wide,  through 
which  rushed  a  mountain  brook  in  a  deep  ravine, 
its  bed  strewn  with  white  stones.     On  the  hills 


AT  SAUL'S  COURT  39 

opposite  to  them  were  the  tents  of  the  Philistines, 
and  the  Israelites  could  watch  them  swarming  about 
like  bees.  It  was  clear,  even  to  one  as  inexperienced 
in  warfare  as  David,  that  the  Israelite  army  was 
in  a  magnificent  position  to  prevent  the  Philistines 
from  forcing  the  pass,  but  that  if  they  themselves 
took  the  offensive  they  would  put  themselves  in 
the  enemy's  power.  In  fact,  whichever  side  at- 
tempted to  cross  the  ravine  first  would  be  at  the 
mercy  of  the  other. 

Presently  David  noticed  a  little  group  of  Philis- 
tines run  down  the  hill,  and  one  of  them,  clearly 
a  big  man,  all  in  armor,  detach  himself  from  the 
others  and  begin  striding  up  and  down  the  meadow, 
gesticulating  so  that  the  sun  flashed  on  his  bronze 
armor.  After  a  while  he  rejoined  his  companions, 
and  all  together  they  climbed  back  again  up  to 
the  camp.  David  wondered  what  it  had  been 
about — perhaps  an  invocation  to  his  gods,  he 
thought. 

The  danger  of  taking  the  initiative  was  quite 
apparent  to  both  armies,  and  for  several  days  they 
remained  on  the  hillsides  watching  each  other  and 
making  no  movement.  Every  morning  the  big 
Philistine  walked  up  and  down,  waving  his  arms 
and  shouting,  and  the  Israelites  discovered  that  he 
was  challenging  them  to  single  combat  and  calling 


40  DAVID  THE  SON  OF  JESSE 

them  white-livered  garbage  for  not  responding. 
Some  of  the  young  Benjamites  were  angry  and 
wanted  to  rush  down  on  him  in  a  body  and  silence 
him,  but  Abner  had  violently  forbidden  any  such 
rash  action. 

One  evening,  when  Saul  had  said  he  did  not 
want  him,  David  went  off  toward  the  tents  of  the 
men  of  Judah.  His  three  eldest  brothers  were  there 
and  many  other  young  men  he  knew,  including  his 
nephew  Joab,  Elhanan,  also  a  youth  of  Bethlehem, 
and  a  certain  Eleazar,  son  of  Dodai.  This  evening 
he  found  them  sitting  together  in  a  group,  making 
merry  over  some  bottles  of  wine  and  some  cakes 
which  Jesse  had  sent  to  his  sons. 

"My  father  is  a  man  of  sense,"  Eliab  was 
saying,  as  David  came  up.  "He  sent  by  the  same 
messenger  a  handsome  present  of  wine,  cheese,  and 
bread  to  the  captain  of  our  thousand,  so  we  three 
are  in  his  good  books,  and  he  won't  say  anything 
at  our  enjoying  ourselves  to-night." 

"Give  me  a  drink!"  cried  David,  pushing  into 
the  circle,  taking  the  wine  skin  from  Elhanan,  and 
sitting  down  beside  him.  "Ah!  this  is  the  stuff! 
If  I  drink  enough  of  this  I  shall  be  ready  to  go  and 
settle  old  Goliath,  as  they  call  him,  myself,  single- 
handed  ! " 

The  young  men  laughed  and  declared  that  on 


AT  SAUL'S  COURT  41 

those  terms  he  was  welcome  to  the  rest  of  the  wine, 
but  Eliab  called  out : 

"No,  no!  Don't  you  believe  him!  I  know  him 
of  old — it 's  only  a  trick  to  finish  the  wine — ^he 
never  means  to  go  near  the  Philistines ! " 

"What!  not  to  win  the  king's  daughter,  who 
has  been  promised  to  the  man  who  kills  Goliath?" 
asked  Elhanan. 

And  the  others  laughed  again. 

"Don't  you  believe  it,"  said  David.  "He  's  far 
more  likely  to  get  a  dressing  down  from  Abner  for 
crossing  the  brook — though  I  think  myself  the  fel- 
low deserves  a  lesson  for  his  disgusting  language." 

"It  would  n't  be  necessary  to  cross  the  brook  in 
order  to  lay  him  out,"  said  Elhanan.  "I  could 
reach  him  myself  with  a  stone  from  my  sling  from 
this  side  of  the  water.  ..." 

"Yes,"  answered  Eleazar,  "and  have  all  the  pack 
that  go  with  him  cut  you  in  pieces  before  you  'd 
climbed  out  of  the  ravine." 

"Not  if  half  a  dozen  of  us  went  down  with 
him,"  put  in  Joab.  "We  could  see  to  it  that  he  had 
fair  play." 

David  silently  held  the  wine  skin  out  to  Elhanan 
with  a  meaning  look,  and  there  was  a  shout  of 
amusement  from  the  others.  Elhanan  grinned  and 
looked  sheepish,  but  muttered  that  he  meant  it. 


42  DAVID  THE  SON  OF  JESSE 

"Well,"  said  David,  "why  not?  Keep  the  plan 
dark  so  that  we're  not  stopped;  let  ten  of  us  go 
down  to  the  brook  in  ones  and  twos  and  no  one 
will  notice  us.  Let  Elhanan  have  the  first  shot  at 
Goliath  and  the  rest  of  us  will  be  ready  to  settle 
any  of  his  friends  who  come  within  reach.  What 
do  you  say?     Who  else  will  come?" 

With  the  party  of  hot-heads  sitting  there  eager 
for  a  fight  and  despising  anybody  who  hung  back 
for  a  strategic  reason,  it  was  easy  enough  to  find 
plenty  of  support  for  such  a  dashing  scheme,  how- 
ever foolhardy  it  might  appear  to  soberer  spirits. 
Twelve  of  them  were  soon  agreed  to  take  part  in 
the  attempt;  the  rest  were  bound  over  to  secrecy, 
and  after  a  few  more  details  as  to  time  and  place 
had  been  settled,  the  conspirators  parted  to  make 
the  most  of  the  hours  of  rest  that  remained  before 
the  adventure  began. 


Chapter  VI 

Saul  and  Abner  were  standing  on  the  hillside 
looking  down  to  the  valley  of  Elah.  On  the  other 
side  of  the  brook  the  gigantic  figure  of  the  Philis- 
tine was  seen  making  his  usual  descent  of  the  hill- 


AT  SAUL'S  COURT  43 

side  to  taunt,  and  perhaps  lure  out,  the  men  of 
Israel.  Abner  was  biting  his  underlip  and  growling 
as  he  watched,  and  his  black  eyebrows  made  a  line 
across  his  forehead. 

"May  Azazel  be  my  ruin ! "  he  exclaimed  at  last. 
"If  he  stands  there  much  longer  I  shall  go  down 
myself  to  fight  him!  I  don't  know  what  young 
men  are  made  of  nowadays !  When  /  was  young  no 
orders  under  heaven  would  have  prevented  us  from 
knocking  on  the  head  a  villain  who  behaved  as 
insultingly  as  this  one!  I  wonder  you  can  put  up 
with  it,  Saul." 

"If  we  don't  put  up  with  that  we  may  have  to 
put  up  with  something  worse,"  answered  Saul. 
"But  I  'm  afraid  from  the  look  of  things  the  young 
men  are  not  so  degenerate  as  you  make  out;  I  see 
a  lot  of  movement  down  by  the  brook,  and  there 
are  three  of  them  running  down  the  hill  under  the 
shadow  of  those  olive  trees." 

"By  the  Lord,  so  there  are.  And  look,  the 
Philistines  have  seen  them  too,  and  are  sending 
an  extra  number  of  men  down  with  their  courageous 
Goliath,  who  is  too  grand  or  too  lazy  to  carry  his 
own  shield.  Well,  I  '11  run  up  to  the  camp  and 
have  our  men  ready  to  stand  by  in  case  their  help 
is  needed.  I  '11  send  David  down  to  you  with 
your  armor." 


44  DAVID  THE  SON  OF  JESSE 

But  that  Abner  was  not  able  to  do.  David  was 
crouching  down  in  the  ravine  where  the  brook 
rushed  past,  clutching  his  sling  and  his  club  and 
watching  intently  while  Goliath  came  nearer  and 
nearer.  Suddenly  Elhanan,  who  was  also  in  the 
ravine  a  little  way  off,  jumped  up  on  the  bank, 
and  swung  his  sling;  Goliath  fell  face  forward  on 
the  ground  without  a  word,  and  never  moved.  His 
companions,  who,  on  seeing  an  Israelite  unexpect- 
edly appearing  within  their  reach  for  the  first  time 
since  they  had  come  down  to  do  battle  had  begun  to 
run  forward,  hesitated  at  the  quite  unexpected  fall 
of  their  champion.  At  this  moment  Elhanan's  sup- 
porters sprang  up  too,  and  the  Philistines,  petrified 
at  the  appearance  of  a  dozen  where  they  looked  for 
only  one,  stood  stock  still,  and  immediately  re- 
ceived a  volley  of  stones  from  the  Israelites. 
David's  hand  shook  so  much  with  excitement  that 
his  first  stone  fell  wide.  He  stooped  to  pick  up 
another  and  when  he  raised  his  head  the  whole  scene 
had  changed.  Across  the  brook  a  mass  of  Philis- 
tines were  pouring  down  the  hill  to  support  their 
friends ;  and  of  the  latter  half  a  dozen  had  recovered 
from  their  alarm  and  were  almost  upon  the  brook. 

Up  to  this  moment  the  young  men  who  had  gone 
out  with  their  slings  had  been  acting  more  or  less 
independently.    They  had  agreed  to  let  Elhanan 


AT  SAUL'S  COURT  45 

shoot  first,  but  beyond  that  they  had  made  no  plans 
— they  were  not  even  grouped  together — and  when 
they  looked  up  and  saw  the  whole  Philistine  army 
coming  down  toward  them  they  hesitated  and 
wavered.  David  suddenly  realized  that  he  was 
practically  alone — with  no  help — in  the  way  of  a 
charging  army.  His  body  felt  icy  cold  and  his 
belly  hollow  and  empty.  Almost  automatically  he 
swung  his  sling  and  could  hardly  believe  his  eyes 
when  he  saw  a  Philistine  go  down.  Then  he  heard 
a  shout  behind  him,  turned,  and  saw  a  troop  of 
friendly  Benjamites  racing  down  the  hill  toward 
them.  It  flashed  upon  him  that  this  was  the  battle 
— that  as  yet  he  had  done  nothing — that  if  he  was 
not  quick  the  men  of  Benjamin  would  be  in  it  before 
he  was.  He  leapt  the  brook,  with  a  cry  of  "J^dah! 
Judah!"  and  scrambled  out  of  the  ravine  into  the 
south  side  of  the  valley.  As  he  shouted  the  other 
Judeans  gathered  courage.  In  a  moment  they  too 
had  crossed  the  stream,  and  at  once  all  began  fol- 
lowing the  lead  of  David.  As  he  bounded  along 
he  was  conscious  first  of  Joab  and  then  of  Eleazar 
beside  him;  two  or  three  stones  flew  over  his  head 
from  the  Judean  slings  and  at  that  the  nearest 
Philistines  turned  and  fled. 

Nevertheless,    this    was,    in    reality,    the    most 
dangerous  moment  of  the  battle.     The  handful  of 


46  DAVID  THE  SON  OF  JESSE 

Israelites  in  the  ravine  and  south  of  the  brook  could 
do  nothing  decisive  alone;  the  main  body  were 
rushing  impetuously  down  the  hill,  and  would  soon 
be  involved  in  the  difficulties  of  the  mountain  tor- 
rent and  its  steep  banks.  If  the  Philistines  had 
collected  themselves,  and  remained  firm  on  their 
own  hillside,  the  situation  they  had  manoeuvered  for 
would  have  been  attained,  and  the  Israelites  would 
have  been  in  their  hands. 

But  the  Philistines  could  not  collect  themselves. 
Their  nerves  had  been  shaken  by  seeing  Goliath 
the  unconquerable  fall ;  the  men  going  down  the  hill 
to  the  attack  had  become  involved  in  the  men  flying 
from  the  Israelite  slingers,  and  the  impetuous  dash 
of  the  Benjamites  down  the  northern  slope  suddenly 
seemed  catastrophic  and  irresistible.  Moreover,  the 
situation  was  one  in  which  the  great  war  chariots 
on  which  they  chiefly  relied  were  useless,  even  if 
they  had  been  on  the  spot.  Panic  seized  them ;  and 
before  David  had  run  many  steps  up  the  hill  he 
saw  to  his  amazement  that  they  were  abandoning 
the  camp  and  were  tearing — a  desperate  and  dis- 
organized mob — westward  along  the  valley,  toward 
the  pass  into  Philistia. 

The  pursuit  of  the  flying  Philistines  was  a  long 
and  tiring  one.  David  found  himself — by  tacit 
consent  of  his  companions — in  conomand  of  the  men 


AT  SAUL'S  COURT  47 

on  the  south  side  of  the  river — the  original  skir- 
mishers, reinforced  by  some  of  the  quickest-footed 
of  the  Benjamites.  On  the  north  side  the  main 
body  was  led  by  the  flashing  bronze  armor  of  Jona- 
than, and  David  instinctively  kept  his  little  group 
in  line  with  them.  As  far  as  the  top  of  the  pass 
they  had  things  their  own  way,  and  did  great 
slaughter  upon  the  rearward  Philistines.  Once 
over  the  pass,  however,  they  would  be  approaching 
Philistia,  and  David  realized  that  he  did  not  at  all 
know  how  far  it  would  be  safe  to  go.  He  fixed  his 
eye,  therefore,  on  Jonathan;  and  with  him  checked 
his  eager  followers  when  they  came  in  sight  of  the 
towers  of  Gath. 

In  the  cool  of  the  evening  the  triumphant  army 
straggled  back,  making  a  detour  through  the 
deserted  Philistine  camp  in  order  to  carry  off  any 
booty  that  remained  there.  The  tents  had,  how- 
ever, been  pretty  thoroughly  ransacked  before  David 
reached  them.  Nowhere  could  he  find  the  armor 
that  he  had  set  his  heart  upon,  and  only  after  long 
search  a  short-handled  spear  with  an  iron  head. 
As  it  was  the  first  iron  he  had  ever  possessed,  he 
tried  to  console  himself  with  it,  but  could  not  help 
lamenting  in  his  heart  that  his  first  adventure  had 
not  won  him  the  armor  of  his  dreams.  Coming 
down  the  hill  to  cross  the  valley  in  returning  to  the 


48  DAVID  THE  SON  OF  JESSE 

Israelite  camp,  he  passed  the  dead  body  of  Goliath. 
Elhanan  was  standing  beside  it  measuring  the 
height — close  upon  seven  feet  they  found  it.  David 
helped  him  to  take  off  the  heavy  armor,  and 
Elhanan  took  out  the  giant's  sword  and  cut  off 
the  head  with  it,  and  then  the  two  young  men 
carried  the  armor  off  to  their  tents. 


Chapter  VII 

As  David  pushed  his  way  through  the  rejoicing 
crowds  that  swarmed  about  the  Israelite  camp,  he 
noticed  a  change  in  the  men's  attitude  toward  him- 
self. It  had  been  evident  to  every  one  that  he  had 
been  the  leader  of  the  bold  enthusiasts  to  whom  the 
battle  and  the  victory  had  been  due.  Saul  and 
Jonathan  had  been  asking  for  him  urgently;  and 
whereas  before  he  had  only  been  a  singer  and  the 
king's  favorite,  he  was.  now  a  successful  captain 
and  a  popular  hero.  On  every  side  he  was  assailed 
by  salutations,  greetings,  congratulations,  and  even 
— ^that  inevitable  mark  of  success — by  requests  to  be 
remembered.  David  replied  with  thanks  and  by 
reciprocating  greetings  to  as  many  as  he  could,  and 


AT  SAUL'S  COURT  49 

with  gestures  and  smiles  to  the  rest.  In  haste  as  he 
was  to  reach  the  king's  tent,  he  allowed  no  one  who 
spoke  to  him  to  feel  that  he  was  unresponsive. 

At  last  he  made  his  way  to  the  tent,  and  with  a 
word  to  the  man  on  guard,  lifted  the  curtain  and 
went  in.  Saul  and  Jonathan  were  both  there,  sit- 
ting on  the  ground  on  rugs;  both  turned  toward  him 
as  he  came  in,  with  smiles  and  words  of  welcome. 

"Welcome,  my  beloved,"  said  Saul,  making  a 
play  of  words  on  his  name.  "Yahweh  has  indeed 
been  your  friend  to-day.^  Sit  down  here  and  tell 
us  all  about  your  doings." 

"Certainly,  Yahweh  has  been  my  friend,"  an- 
swered David,  smiling,  and  sitting  crosslegged  on 
the  floor  as  he  had  been  bidden,  "but  as  for  my 
doings,  they  are  not  worth  mentioning — there  were 
many  who  did  better  than  I." 

Jonathan  laughed  aloud,  and  turned  to  Saul. 

"Do  not  believe  him,  my  father,"  he  said.  "Do 
not  let  his  modesty  and  generosity  hide  his  courage. 
I  saw  him  the  whole  day — I  knew  that  golden  hair 
— leading  the  men  on  the  south  side  of  the  brook — 
urging  them  to  the  pursuit,  cheering  them  when  they 
flagged,  restraining  them  when  the  time  came  to 
return,  and  himself  the  first  to  advance  and  the  last 

1  The  name  David  comes,  perhaps,  from  Dodavahu,  which  probably 
means  Yahweh  is  a  friend  or  Yahweh  is  beloved. 


50  DAVID  THE  SON  OF  JESSE 

to  retire.  His  courage  was  matched  only  by  his 
prudence." 

The  enthusiastic  praise  thus  lavished  on  him  by 
the  heroic  Jonathan,  whose  own  exploits  in  war  were 
famous  all  over  the  country,  made  David's  heart 
beat,  and  his  cheeks  flush. 

"My  lord,"  said  he,  softly,  to  Saul,  lowering  his 
eyes  and  looking  at  the  ground,  "as  for  my  prudence 
it  consisted  only  in  watching  Jonathan,  and  guiding 
my  behavior  by  his."  Through  his  long  eyelashes 
David  glanced  quickly  up  at  Jonathan,  who  smiled 
and  shook  his  head. 

"Well,"  said  Saul,  "never  mind  all  that;  what 
I  want  to  know  is  how  you  got  down  to  the  brook 
at  all,  who  else  was  with  you,  and  exactly  what 
happened.     Tell  me  all  about  it." 

So  David  told  Saul  how  the  plan  had  been 
arranged  the  night  before,  and  executed  in  the 
morning,  and  ended  by  begging  the  king's  forgive- 
ness for  having  disobeyed  orders  and  embarked  on 
such  an  enterprise  unknown  to  any  of  the  captains. 

"Forgive  you!"  exclaimed  Saul;  "well,  it's  true 
enough  it  was  a  rash  proceeding  and  might  have 
turned  out  badly;  but  as  things  are,  you  have  ren- 
dered us  all  a  great  service,  and  I  shall  see  you 
are  not  the  loser.  In  any  case  you  shall  be  a  cap- 
tain of  a  thousand,  for  it  is  evident  you  will  make 


AT  SAUL'S  COURT  51 

a  good  officer.  And  for  yourself  .  .  .  what  shall 
I  give  you,  my  beautiful  David?  .  .  .  Jonathan, 
what  shall  I  give  him?  .  .  .  David,  I  will  give 
you  my  eldest  daughter,  Merab,  to  wife! " 

In  a  flash  there  rose  up  in  David's  mind  the  face 
of  the  girl  he  had  seen  in  Saul's  room  at  Gibeah 
...  if  this  were  Merab !  But  the  next  moment  he 
recovered  himself,  and  bending  forward  touched 
the  ground  with  his  forehead. 

"My  lord  thinks  too  much  of  what  I  have  done," 
he  said.  "Who  am  I,  who  are  my  kinsfolk,  that 
I  should  be  son-in-law  to  the  king?" 

Saul,  who  had  spoken  with  his  usual  impetuosity, 
and  was  already  regretting  his  hasty  offer,  felt  re- 
lieved at  David's  answer. 

"Well,  well,"  he  returned,  "there  is  no  hurry  for 
that  .  .  .  You  are  still  young.  .  .  .  Now,  boys, 
I  will  not  keep  you — I  am  going  to  sleep." 

David  and  Jonathan  rose,  saluted  the  king,  and 
went  out.  As  they  did  so  Jonathan  caught  hold 
of  David's  arm  and  looked  at  him  intently. 

"David,"  he  said,  eagerly,  directly  they  were 
outside,  "come  to  my  tent.  ...  I  want  to  speak 
to  you.  David,"  he  continued,  as  soon  as  they 
were  alone  in  the  tent,  "I  don't  know  what  has 
happened  to  me.  I  have  seen  you  so  often,  about 
my  father,  at  Gibeah,  and  never  noticed  you.  .  .  . 


52  DAVID  THE  SON  OF  JESSE 

I  must  have  been  blind  ...  but  to-day  ...  it  was 
like  a  revelation — as  if  I  was  looking  at  you  for 
the  first  time.  I  don't  know  what  it  is  in  you, 
David  .  .  .  you  are  brave — ^but  it 's  not  that — you 
will  be  a  great  general — but  it 's  not  that — your 
voice  is  like  milk  and  honey,  you  are  the  most 
beautiful  boy  in  the  world — but  it 's  not  that,  it 's 
not  that — I  don't  know  what  it  is,  but  I  love  you 
as  my  own  soul." 

David  made  no  answer.  A  pulse  was  beating 
in  his  throat,  and  he  shivered  with  the  rising 
vehemence  of  Jonathan's  emotion.  At  last  he  took 
Jonathan's  hand  in  his  and  pressed  it  to  his  lips. 

"Ah! "  cried  Jonathan  in  a  voice  of  triumph;  and 
clasped  David  in  his  arms. 

In  the  morning  Jonathan  and  David  made  a 
blood  covenant.  The  priest  made  a  cut  in  the 
right  arm  of  each,  and  rubbed  the  warm  blood  on 
the  wound  of  the  other.  They  clasped  their  hands 
and  swore  before  Yahweh  that  they  were  brothers, 
and  that  the  friends  and  enemies  of  the  one  should 
be  the  friends  and  enemies  of  the  other.  Then 
Jonathan  took  for  himself  David's  outer  coat,  his 
club,  and  his  sling,  and  in  return  laid  at  David's 
feet  his  own  bronze  armor,  iron  sword,  bow,  and 
leather  girdle.     But,  since  the  day  before,  the  world 


AT  SAUL'S  COURT  53 

had  changed  so  utterly  to  David  that  he  picked  up 
the  treasures,  for  which  he  had  longed  so  passion- 
ately, with  a  feeling  of  remoteness  that  amounted 
almost  to  indifference.  .  .  . 


Chapter  VIII 

When  David  returned  to  Gibeah  his  whole  way 
of  life  was  changed.  He  was  no  longer  a  mere 
attendant  on  the  sick  king — he  was  a  successful 
soldier,  an  admired  leader  and  the  friend  of  Jona- 
than, the  heir  to  the  throne.  Moreover — though 
no  one  except  Jonathan  knew  it — the  king  had 
offered  him  his  daughter  Merab  as  a  wife.  Yet 
during  these  days  of  success  and  promise,  David 
thought  very  little  about  Samuel's  prophetic  words, 
and  spent  indeed  very  little  time  in  any  dreams. 
He  was  extremely  busy  with  his  new  military  duties 
and  any  spare  moments  were  absorbed  by  Jonathan. 
Once  or  twice  he  thought  Saul  was  eyeing  him 
strangely — but  he  quickly  attributed  that  to  the 
king's  health,  and  forgot  it  as  soon  as  possible. 
No  more  was  said  about  Merab. 

One  day  he  suddenly  felt  homesick;  and  in  the 


54  DAVID  THE  SON  OF  JESSE 

afternoon  walked  over  to  Bethlehem  to  stay  the 
night  there.  His  father  and  mother  were  delighted 
to  see  him — so  were  his  brothers  and  nephews — 
and  their  affectionate  praise  and  admiration  pleased 
and  invigorated  him.  He  returned  to  Gibeah  the 
following  day  and  swimg  along  the  stony  road, 
gay  and  confident,  sure  that  the  world  was  full  of 
prizes  and  triumphs  for  him  to  win. 

He  reached  the  well  outside  the  gate  in  the 
evening,  just  as  the  girls  of  the  town  were  filling 
their  pitchers.  Hot  and  thirsty  from  his  walk,  he 
went  up  to  one  of  them  who  was  still  stooping  over 
the  water,  and  putting  his  hands  together  like  a 
cup  said  softly: 

"In  the  name  of  Yahweh,  give  me  drink,  O 
daughter  of  wisdom."  The  girl  looked  up  quickly 
and  fixed  her  eyes  on  David. 

"In  the  name  of  Yahweh,  here  is  drink  for  the 
singer,"  she  replied. 

When  he  saw  her  face  he  knew  her  at  once,  anci 
the  blood  rushed  into  his  own;  but  he  kept  his 
hands  steady  for  the  water  she  poured  into  them, 
and  drank  it,  before  answering  her. 

"May  Yahweh  reward  you  for  giving  drink  to 
a  soldier,"  for  he  was  willing  she  should  know  he 
could  fight  and  had. 

"A  soldier!"  the  girl  laughed  and  half  turned 


AT  SAUL'S  COURT  55 

round  to  her  companions,  who  were  listening  to 
the  talk  and  smiling  at  the  handsome  young  man. 
"A  soldier!  I  thought  you  were  a  babies'  nurse 
from  your  song!" 

Again  David  felt  the  blood  in  his  cheeks.  She 
had  the  gift  of  stinging  him  with  a  delicious  sense 
of  shame — a  glance  could  do  it,  and  she  could  find 
sharp  words  that  had  the  same  effect.  He  felt  a 
little  child  while  she  laughed  at  him.  But  sud- 
denly, even  as  he  looked  at  her  with  hot  cheeks,  the 
sensation  of  his  own  manhood  came  upon  him,  more 
strongly  than  anything  else.  After  all,  she  was 
only  a  woman — let  her  know  it. 

He  put  out  his  hand  and  held  her  sleeve. 

"I  know  other  songs  than  that  one,"  he  said. 
"I  know  war  songs  ...  I  know  love  songs  .  .  . 
and  I  can  teach  others  to  sing.  Would  you  like 
to  learn  that  lullaby?  ...  do  you  remember  how 
it  goes?  .  .  .  shall  I  sing  it  again?  'Close  your 
eyes,  little  child,  close  your  eyes'  .  .  ." 

She  pulled  her  sleeve  from  his  grasp,  lifted  her 
pitcher,  and  without  a  word  turned  from  him  and 
hurried  back  to  the  town;  but  not  before  he  had 
seen  her  mocking  eyes  cast  down,  and  her  own  face 
hot  and  crimson. 

He  pursued  one  of  the  other  women  and  detained 
her. 


56  DAVID  THE  SON  OF  JESSE 

"Tell  me,  Mother,  who  is  the  girl  with  the  red 
fringe  to  her  dress?" 

"Don't  look  after  her,  young  man,  she's  too 
great  for  you  .  .  .  that's  Saul's  youngest  daughter, 
Michal." 

Jonathan  thought  David  was  tired  by  his  walk. 
It  was  a  pity,  for  again  there  was  news  of  a  Phi- 
listine raid,  and  in  the  morning,  very  early,  they 
were  to  start  to  meet  them.  Would  David  come  too  ? 
David  was  quite  willing;  but  he  told  Jonathan  that 
he  was  tired,  and  if  they  were  starting  early  he 
would  rest  now. 

David  may  have  been  tired  that  evening,  but 
in  the  morning  he  was  in  boisterous  spirits.  When 
he  was  in  that  mood  nothing  could  withstand  him; 
he  soon  had  his  own  thousand  as  full  of  enthusiasm 
as  himself,  and  the  whole  army  caught  the  in- 
fection. The  consequence  was  the  complete  rout 
of  the  Philistines  and  another  personal  triumph 
for  David.  Jonathan  sent  an  advance  messenger 
with  the  news  to  Saul;  and  the  messenger  must 
have  told  others  besides  Saul,  for  as  the  victorious 
soldiers  marched  back  to  Gibeah  the  women  rushed 
out  to  meet  them,  singing  and  dancing,  and  playing 
on  harps  and  flutes.  Nor  was  it  only  the  women 
of  Gibeah  who  formed  the  crowd  of  those  who 


AT  SAUL'S  COURT  57 

rejoiced — from  all  the  neighboring  towns  they  had 
thronged  together  to  do  honor  to  the  new  hero. 

As  David  went  along  at  the  head  of  his  thousand, 
and  saw  all  the  eyes  of  the  assembly  turned  on  him, 
their  arms  stretched  toward  him,  and  heard  their 
acclamations  with  his  name  sounding  most  loudly, 
he  felt  a  new  thrill.  This  was  a  triumph  in  the  eyes 
of  a  whole  people — not  only  before  a  few  men — a 
king — some  soldiers — his  relations — it  was  a  whole 
nation  that  was  coming  out  to  welcome  him — he 
was  renowned  now  throughout  the  tribes  of  Israel 
and  Judah.  And  it  was  as  this  conviction  reached 
him  that  there  came  to  him  the  words  which  with 
a  startling  suddenness  brought  back  to  him  the 
promise  of  Samuel.  The  words  were  being  sung 
by  groups  of  women,  who  danced  as  they  sang,  and 
clapped  their  hands.  They  were  getting  nearer  to 
the  town  of  Gibeah — nearer  to  Gibeah  of  Saul — 
and  still  the  women  sang  and  laughed,  and  threw 
out  their  arms  toward  David.  Now  the  procession 
was  within  the  gates  of  the  town — now  they  were 
coming  under  the  walls  behind  which  the  king  was 
sitting,  and  still  they  sang,  almost  intoxicated  with 
joy  and  music.  David  heard  them  quite  clearly; 
he  looked  straight  ahead  and  kept  his  lips  firm, 
but  his  eyes  sparkled  and  his  pulses  throbbed;  did 


58  DAVID  THE  SON  OF  JESSE 

Saul  hear  them  too?  did  Jonathan  hear  them?  and 
what  did  they  think?  For  these  were  the  words  of 
the  women's  song,  echoed  by  hundreds  of  voices, 
hundreds  of  times : 

Saul  hath  slain  his  thousands, 

But  David  hath  slain  his  ten  thousands. 


Chapter  IX 

That  night  Saul  had  another  of  his  attacks.  He 
had  been  violent  and  excited  all  the  time  of  the 
rejoicings,  and  seeing  Merab  among  the  women 
who  were  waving  green  branches  on  the  tops  of  the 
houses,  he  broke  out  into  incoherent  curses  and 
abuse,  calling  her  an  unnatural  daughter,  a  viper, 
a  conspirator.  When  he  had  exhausted  himself 
he  flung  himself  down  listlessly  on  the  floor  and 
would  not  speak.  Jonathan  ran  for  David,  and 
begged  him  to  come  with  his  harp  to  see  if  he  could 
help  him,  and  David  assented,  though  in  his  heart 
he  felt  a  reluctance  that  he  did  not  wish  to  recognize. 

"Father,"  said  Jonathan  gently,  "here  is  David 
— would  you  like  him  to  play  to  you?" 

Saul  pushed  Jonathan  away,  gave  a  growl  that 


AT  SAUL'S  COURT  59 

was  almost  a  groan,  and  hid  his  face  in  his  hands. 
David,  without  speaking,  began  to  play  very  softly 
on  the  harp,  but  he  did  not  sing.  Saul  did  not 
look  up  or  move,  but  presently  he  said: 

"Jonathan:  I  want  Merab.  Fetch  her."  Jona- 
than went  out. 

When  he  had  gone  David  stopped  playing;  he 
crept  a  little  nearer  to  Saul  and  touched  the  hem 
of  the  king's  coat.  Saul  was  still  motionless,  and 
David  began  to  caress  his  foot,  very  lightly.  At 
last  he  said:  "My  lord,  the  king,  ...  my  fa- 
ther. .  .  ." 

Saul  gave  a  deep  sigh  and  looked  up. 

"My  beautiful  David,  have  you  come  to  drive 
away  my  evil  spirit?  You  have  not  been  to  see  me 
for  many,  many  weeks,  and  that  is  the  reason  he 
has  seized  upon  me  again.  Why  have  you  deserted 
me?     Don't  you  love  me  any  more?" 

Before  David  could  answer  Jonathan  returned, 
leading  Merab  with  him.  When  she  saw  her  father 
lying  on  the  ground  she  gave  a  little  cry  and  ran 
toward  him. 

"My  father — my  dear  father — you  are  ill — you 
are  unhappy.  Forgive  your  poor  Merab  for  of- 
fending you — God  knows  I  never  meant  to.  Let 
me  try  to  help  you — to  make  you  more  comfort- 
able." 


60  DAVID  THE  SON  OF  JESSE 

Saul  pulled  her  down  beside  him  and  began 
stroking  her  head. 

"It  was  the  evil  spirit  who  spoke  roughly  to  you, 
Merab,  not  your  father.  I  know  I  have  no  cause 
to  be  angry  with  you — ^you  are  a  good  girl  and  I 
love  you  dearly.  Listen,  and  I  will  show  you 
how  much  I  love  you.  To-morrow — yes,  to-mor- 
row— I  will  give  you  in  marriage.  .  .  ." 

He  paused  and  looked  up.  It  chanced  that  at 
that  moment  Jonathan,  who  had  knelt  down  be- 
side the  crouching  David,  put  his  hand  on  his 
head  and  smiled  at  him.  A  shiver  seemed  to  run 
through  Saul;  he  went  on,  but  his  voice  was  harsh, 
and  he  spoke  with  an  obvious  effort. 

"I  say,  I  will  give  you  in  marriage — to-morrow 
— to  Adriel  the  Meholathite — now  go — I  wish  to 
be  alone —  Go,  go — and  you  go  too,  Jonathan, 
and—" 

The  rest  of  the  sentence  was  smothered  as  he 
dropped  to  the  floor,  on  his  face.  They  dared  not 
stay — ^Jonathan  gloomily  took  the  bewildered  Merab 
back  to  the  women's  room,  and  David  went  out  with 
a  sinking  heart,  though  he  kept  on  assuring  him- 
self there  was  no  need  to  feel  like  that. 

The  next  day  David  found  an  excuse  for  leaving 
Gibeah  with  his  thousand  and  went  roving  up  and 
down  Philistia,  burning,  plundering,  and  killing. 


AT  SAUL'S  COURT  61 

After  a  few  weeks  he  got  news  of  a  large  force  com- 
ing out  against  him,  and  hastily  gathered  his  men 
together  and  returned  to  the  mountain  fastnesses  of 
Israel.  It  was  with  some  uneasiness,  remembering 
doubtfully  their  last  painful  interview,  that  he  pre- 
sented himself,  on  his  return,  before  the  king,  but 
Saul  seemed  well  and  cheerful,  and  greeted  him 
affectionately.  He  told  him  that  Merab  was  mar- 
ried and  had  gone  off  with  her  husband  to  Abel- 
meholah,  near  the  Jordan. 

"We  had  a  great  feast  for  the  wedding,"  he  said, 
with  a  laugh,  "and  it  seems  that  Michal  thinks  she 
would  like  to  be  married  too.  ...  I  hear  she 
has  cast  her  eyes  on  you,  David." 

David  laughed  too  and  said  nothing,  and  after 
a  few  more  words  Saul  dismissed  him. 

This  friendly  mood,  however,  did  not  last  long. 
The  men  of  David's  thousand  brought  back  in- 
numerable tales  of  their  leader's  prowess,  and  soon 
all  Benjamin  was  talking  of  nothing  else.  Saul 
alone  seemed  unwilling  to  listen  to  these  tales,  and 
became  more  and  more  depressed  as  time  went  on. 

One  evening  David  was  sitting  by  himself  under 
the  shade  of  a  group  of  olive  trees  when  he  saw  ap- 
proaching the  well-known  figure  of  Elihu.  He 
was  not  particularly  desirous  of  conversing  with 
him,  but  he  saw  that  he  had  been  seen,  and  re- 


62  DAVID  THE  SON  OF  JESSE 

signed  himself.  Sure  enough  Elihu  stopped  before 
him. 

"May  you  be  blessed  of  Yahweh,  son  of  Jesse." 

"And  you,  twice  blessed,"  replied  David. 

"It  is  long  since  I  have  had  an  opportunity  to 
ask  after  your  health." 

"I  am  well,  by  your  favor." 

"By  the  favor  of  Yahweh.  .  .  .  How  is  your 
father?" 

"He  sends  you  greeting." 

"I  have  been  longing  to  see  him  for  many 
months." 

"And  he  still  more." 

"Can  I  do  anything  to  serve  you?" 

"May  Yahweh  prolong  your  life." 

These  necessary  preliminaries  having  been  gone 
through  Elihu  spread  his  mantle  on  the  ground 
and  sat  down  beside  David. 

"Well,  David,"  he  began,  "you  have  certainly 
got  on  well  since  I  went  to  Bethlehem  to  fetch  you. 
Who  would  have  thought  it !  Not  so  long  ago  and 
you  were  jusi  keeping  sheep  in  the  desert,  and  now 
you  are  the  captain  of  a  thousand  and  the  king's 
favorite!*    Some  people  are  lucky,  I  must  say." 

"Yes,"  answered  David,  "I  have  been  very 
fortunate.     But  I  don't  forget,  Elihu,  that  it  was 


AT  SAUL'S  COURT  63 

you  who  spoke  a  word  to  the  king  for  me  and 
brought  me  to  Gibeah." 

"It 's  true  enough  I  've  always  stood  your  friend, 
David — in  more  ways  than  one — and  not  so  long 
ago,  either.  Oh,  I  know  how  to  slip  in  a  word  on 
my  friend's  behalf — a  word  in  season  is  worth 
a  speech  to  a  sleepy  man." 

David  wondered,  rather  anxiously,  what  Elihu's 
word  in  season  could  have  been. 

"Only  yesterday,"  Elihu  went  on,  "the  king  was 
considering  how  he  could  reward  you  for  your  prow- 
ess against  the  Philistines.  I  had  been  telling  him 
how  clever  you  are  with  your  sling,  and  he  walked 
up  and  down,  muttering,  'What  shall  I  do  with  him?  ' 
What  shall  I  do  with  him?'  " 

David  stared  at  Elihu,  aghast. 

"I  was  revolving  in  my  mind  what  to  suggest 
when  he  turned  sharp  round  on  me  and  said,  'And 
you  love  him  too,  I  '11  wager.'  'Oh,  most  certainly, 
my  lord,'  I  answered;  'all  the  king's  servants  love 
David' — for  you  see,  David,  he  spoke  as  if  he  was 
displeased,  and  it 's  better  not  to  cross  him  when 
he  's  displeased — 'We  all  love  David,'  I  said.  He 
laughed,  and  repeated  after  me,  'We  all  love  David,' 
— and  then  went  on,  'the  king's  servants,  the  king, 
the  king's  son.  .  .  .'     'And  the  king's  daughter,' 


64  DAVID  THE  SON  OF  JESSE 

I  put  in  without  thinking  what  I  was  saying — and 
then  stopped,  for  I  was  really  in  a  fright  at  having 
said  that,  the  more  because  it 's  true  enough,  you 
young  dog."  Elihu  broke  off  and  winked  por- 
tentously. 

"And  the  king?"  said  David,  in  an  agony. 

"Well,  I  was  relieved,  I  can  tell  you — he  did  n't 
seem  a  bit  angry.  He  just  looked  at  me  and  said, 
'Michal?  Yes.  That  might  be  a  way  of  settling 
with  him,' — settling  with  him,  or  settling  him — I 
forget  which  way  he  put  it.  'I  might  give  him 
Michal.'  'Give  him  Michal!'  I  exclaimed,  'Why, 
it 's  absurd !  Why,  his  family  is  nothing  at  all — 
for  him  to  become  the  king's  son-in-law — and  as 
for  paying  what  would  be  right  for  the  king's 
daughter,  it 's  ridiculous  to  think  of  it.  Jesse  is 
not  a  poor  man,  but  he  could  no  more  afford  to 
pay  what  you  would  require  than  he  could  give 
David  a  king's  palace  to  live  in.'  " 

David  groaned  inwardly  and  wondered  what 
would  come  next. 

"  'But,'  said  Saul,"  Elihu  pursued,  now  in  all 
the  delights  of  eloquence,  "  'but,  Elihu,  I  might 
not  need  a  money  payment  from  such  a  young 
warrior.  The  heads  of  a  hundred  Philistines,  now, 
would  be  worth  gold  to  me.'     'In  the  name  of  Yah- 


AT  SAUL'S  COURT  65 

weh,'  I  answered,  for  I  couldn't  help  laughing  at 
the  thought,  'but  it  would  take  a  stronger  man  than 
David  to  carry  a  hundred  Philistines'  heads  up  to 
Gibeah.  All  the  same,  the  uncircumscised  villains 
— there  's  something  else  he  might  find  .  .  .  lighter 
to  carry.  .  .  .'  'Of  course,  of  course,'  he  inter- 
rupted, 'heads,  or  .  .  .  anything  else — if  he  brings 
me  a  hundred  he  shall  have  Michal.'  .  .  .  Why, 
David,  what 's  the  matter?" 

David's  eyes  were  bright  as  fire,  and  he  leaped 
to  his  feet,  smiling. 

"It  is  a  good  plan,  Elihu,"  he  said.  "How  many 
men  could  kill  a  hundred  Philistines  and  escape 
alive  themselves?  It  is  a  good  plan.  King  Saul 
shall  have  what  he  asks  for,  and  I  shall  have  Michal 
to  wife," — and,  leaving  Elihu  sitting  on  the  ground 
staring,  David  pulled  up  his  coat  and  ran  down  the 
road  to  his  dwelling  place. 

David  was  absent  from  Gibeah  for  three  weeks. 
On  his  return  he  fetched  Elihu  and  went  with  him 
into  the  king's  presence.  When  he  came  out  he 
was  the  betrothed  of  Michal. 


66  DAVID  THE  SON  OF  JESSE 

Chapter  X 

There  was  but  little  delay  between  the  betrothal 
and  the  marriage  of  David  and  Michal.  Saul 
seemed  to  be  more  and  more  gloomy,  but  Jonathan 
was  sure  this  was  nothing,  and  that  once  the  wed- 
ding festivities  were  over  he  would  recover  himself, 
and  indeed  rejoice  whole-heartedly  in  having  David 
for  his  son. 

"As  for  me,"  he  went  on,  "it  is  like  a  dream, 
that  my  sister  should  marry  my  brother  .  .  .  Dear- 
est David,  are  you  happy?"  i 

David  smiled. 

"Yes,  I  am  happy,"  he  answered,  and  Jonathan 
smiled  too. 

The  day  of  the  marriage  arrived.  David  left 
his  house  early  and  went  to  Abner's,  where  he  was 
to  spend  the  day.  When  he  had  gone  Saul  took 
Michal  by  the  hand,  and  surrounded  by  women 
and  servants  they  went  from  Saul's  house  to  David's, 
which  was  but  a  little  distance  away.  As  they  went 
along  it  was  noticed  by  some  of  the  onlookers  that 
Saul  hung  his  head,  and  muttered  angrily  from 
time  to  time,  while  Michal  looked  very  white. 
When  they  reached  David's  house  the  women  went 
to  the  upper  room  with  the  boxes  containing  the 


AT  SAUL'S  COURT  67 

bride's  wedding  clothes  and  jewels,  and  set  about 
the  lengthy  and  congenial  task  of  arraying  her  for 
the  feast.  Michal  sat  silent  and  inert  among  them, 
and  they  pulled  her  about,  washed,  anointed, 
painted,  and  clothed  her  as  if  she  had  been  a  doll, 
chattering  all  the  time,  paying  compliments,  making 
appropriate  jokes,  giggling,  and  nibbling  cakes  and 
sweets,  as  noisy  and  merry  as  a  party  of  magpies. 
At  last  everything  was  ready — they  had  only  to 
wait  for  the  arrival  of  the  bridegroom;  and  grad- 
ually the  talking  and  laughter  died  away — the 
women  threw  themselves  down  on  the  cushions  and 
slept — while  Michal  sat  upright  and  stiff,  staring 
straight  in  front  of  her. 

Meanwhile  David  was  at  Abner's  house,  where 
the  young  men  were  assembling.  By  an  hour  after 
sunset  the  room  was  full,  and  David  glanced  round 
to  make  sure  they  need  wait  for  no  one  more. 

"Everybody  is  here,  aren't  they,  Abner?"  he 
said. 

"Yes— I  think  so— let's  start—" 

And  David  made  the  signal  for  setting  out.  In 
the  courtyard  the  servants  had  ready  a  number  of 
lighted  torches;  one  of  these  was  handed  to  each  of 
the  guests,  and  they  began  to  form  up  in  order, 
David  and  Abner  in  front.  Just  as  David  turned 
to  the  door,  however,  he  was  almost  pushed  aside 


68  DAVID  THE  SON  OF  JESSE 

by  some  one  hastily  forcing  his  way  in.  The  other 
guests  exclaimed,  both  at  his  lateness  and  his 
roughness. 

"Who  is  that,  just  when  we're  starting?  The 
Edomite!  Of  course!  No  one  but  Doeg  would 
thrust  himself  in  like  that — nearly  knocking  the 
bridegroom  down!     After  coming  so  late,  too!" 

Doeg  himself,  a  thickset,  ugly,  savage-looking 
fellow,  stood  in  the  doorway  and  scowled.  Then 
he  grinned,  narrowing  his  yellow  eyes  and  showing 
his  brown  teeth,  and  thrust  his  face  into  David's. 

"So  you  thought  you  'd  go  to  your  wedding 
without  me!  Trying  to  slip  off  before  I  arrived! 
No  you  don't — I  shall  be  there!" 

David  stared  at  him  in  surprise,  but  said  nothing. 
Some  one  at  the  back  called  out  to  ask  what  the 
delay  was  for,  and  Abner,  declaring  there  had  been 
enough  dawdling,  pushed  Doeg  on  one  side  and 
shoved  David  forward  and  on  into  the  street. 

It  was  a  beautiful  night.  The  air  was  warm 
and  still,  the  purple  sky  hung  all  over  with  stars. 
The  streets,  walls,  and  roofs  of  the  houses  were 
thronged  with  people  come  to  see  David  pass  to 
his  wedding.  The  torches  lit  up  their  white  dresses 
and  eager  faces,  and  David  saw  them  pointing  him 
out,  and  heard  them  whispering:  "There  he  is! 
There  he  is ! "     As  the  procession  moved  along  the 


AT  SAUL'S  COURT  69 

crowd  grew  denser,  and  presently  began  to  move 
with  them.  Suddenly,  far  ahead,  at  the  end  of  the 
street,  David  saw  a  cluster  of  lights  moving  to  and 
fro,  and  finally  coming  toward  him.  It  was  the 
women  coming  out  to  welcome  him  and  do  him 
honor. 

In  a  few  minutes  now  they  were  in  the  house, 
sitting  down  to  the  wedding  feast.  Saul  seemed  to 
have  recovered  from  his  gloom,  and,  a  red  spot 
on  each  cheek,  talked  and  laughed  feverishly,  avoid- 
ing David's  eye.  Jonathan  was  gay  and  affection- 
ate; Abner  full  of  uproarious  jokes  that  made  the 
women  shriek  and  the  men  guffaw;  Doeg  looked 
sulky  and  scowling;  and  Michal  sat  rigid  and  silent, 
the  length  of  the  table  between  her  and  David. 

At  last  the  feast  was  over.  The  women  rose 
and  led  the  bride  upstairs  again  to  the  bridal  room. 
Presently  they  came  down  again,  and  now  it  was 
the  turn  of  the  men  to  go  up  with  David.  With 
shouts  and  laughter  they  pushed  him  through  the 
doorway  and  then,  still  noisy  and  hilarious,  trooped 
home  through  the  streets  of  Gibeah. 

David  stood  still  in  the  doorway  till  he  heard 
them  leave  the  house,  and  then,  with  a  deep  breath, 
strode  to  the  bed — ^Michal  had  been  undressed  and 
laid  on  it  by  the  brideswomen.  As  David  ap- 
proached she  leapt  up  and  pushed  him  away. 


70  DAVID  THE  SON  OF  JESSE 

"Wait!  wait !"  she  gasped,  breathlessly.  "Don't 
begin  that  .  .  .  you  must  listen.  .  .  ." 

David  laughed.  He  thought  she  was  bashful, 
and  paused  to  give  her  time.  Her  next  words 
enlightened  him. 

"Saul  .  .  .  my  father  ...  he  means  to  kill 
you  .  .  .  you  must  fly.  .  .  ." 

His  face  darkened  and  he  caught  hold  of  her 
arm. 

"What  do  you  mean?"  he  said  roughly,  staring 
into  her  face,  which  he  could  see  only  faintly  in  the 
dim  lamplight. 

"He  thought — to-night  you  won't  be  on  your 
guard."  Her  face  crimsoned.  "He  's  sending  men 
to  kill  you — Doeg  the  Edomite — " 

He  dropped  her  arm  and  frowned.  Then,  with- 
out a  word  to  her,  he  stepped  as  lightly  as  a  cat  out 
of  the  room  and  down  the  stairs. 

In  a  moment  he  was  back  again. 

"Yes."  He  spoke  very  softly,  but  so  that  every 
syllable  was  distinct.  "The  courtyard  is  fuU  of 
men  already.  I  can't  get  out  that  way.  It  must 
be  by  the  window." 

"Yes!  yes!"  she  exclaimed  eagerly,  and  pulling 
a  rug  off  the  bed  began  quickly  knotting  it  to  a  bolt 
fastened  to  the  wall  near  the  window.  He  came  to 
help  her;  for  a  few  moments  they  stood  together. 


AT  SAUL'S  COURT  71 

pulling  the  knots  to  make  them  firm,  and  as  they 
did  so  his  arm  rubbed  accidentally  against  her 
naked  body.  Obeying  an  impulse,  he  caught  her 
in  his  arms  and  pressed  her  to  him. 

"My  brave  girl,"  he  whispered  passionately  in 
her  ear,  "my  king's  daughter!  I  shall  come  back 
— and  then — and  then  ..." 

She  had  yielded  passively  to  his  embrace  and 
quivered  at  his  passion  and  his  hot  words,  but 
she  recovered  her  self-control  quickly,  and  slipped 
from  his  arms. 

"Bring  the  teraphim,"  she  said,  pointing  to  the 
wooden  block  in  the  corner.  He  opened  his  eyes, 
but  brought  it,  and  obeying  her  gesture  laid  it  on 
the  bed.  He  instantly  understood  what  she  was 
after,  and  with  a  muffled  laugh  helped  to  arrange 
a  goatskin  and  some  clothes  so  as  to  give  it  the 
look  of  a  sleeping  man. 

"Good-night,  Oh  fortunate  bridegroom,"  he  said 
with  a  smile  and  a  bow  to  the  teraphim,  and  turned 
to  the  window. 

Michal  gave  a  gasp — she  was  losing  him — would 
he  come  back  as  he  had  said — would  he  escape? 

"Where  are  you  going?"  she  faltered,  her  voice 
on  the  edge  of  a  sob. 

He  hesitated ;  then  with  decision : 

"To  Ramah — to  Samuel,"  he  said,  and  caught 


72  DAVID  THE  SON  OF  JESSE 

hold  of  her  again.  "Wish  me  good  fortune,  my 
wife,"  and  looked  with  smiling  eyes  into  hers. 

Her  eyelids  fell. 

"Depart  in  peace,  my  lord,"  she  said.  "May 
Yahweh  smooth  your  way — and  may  he  give  you 
a  safe  return,  my  love,  my  love.  ..." 

David  held  her  tightly  and  pressed  kisses  on  her 
lips,  her  eyes,  her  throat;  then  he  loosed  her  sud- 
denly, and  catching  hold  of  the  rug  let  himself  down 
through  the  window. 

It  was  a  beautiful  night.  The  stars  hanging 
in  the  deep  purple  lit  him  on  his  way  as  he  took 
the  path  that  led  him  away  from  his  bride — away 
from  death. 


Chapter  XI 

By  the  time  David  reached  Ramah  the  sun  had 
risen.  At  the  sight  of  a  stranger  in  the  street  the 
townspeople  rushed  out  of  doors  to  stare  at  him, 
and  there  were  plenty  able  to  direct  him  to  Samuel's 
house,  while  others  ran  on  in  front  to  tell  the 
Prophet  that  a  visitor  was  coming  to  see  him. 

Samuel  welcomed  him  with  cordiality  and  in- 
sisted on  his  bathing  and  eating  before  anything 


AT  SAUL'S  COURT  73 

was  said.  Then  when  David  was  refreshed  he  took 
him  to  the  roof  of  the  house  and  asked  for  his 
story.  To  David  the  old  Prophet  seemed  not  to 
have  changed  at  all  since  the  day  of  his  anointing; 
in  spite  of  his  own  development  and  experience,  the 
bright  piercing  eyes  fixed  so  immovably  on  his  still 
gave  him  a  sensation  of  being  seen  through,  and  he 
told  his  tale  cautiously,  omitting  some  facts  which 
might  seem  irrelevant,  but  not  exaggerating  what 
he  did  tell.  Samuel  watched  and  listened  without 
speaking  till  David  had  finished.  Even  then  he 
was  silent  for  a  while,  but  at  last  he  spoke. 

"It  seems  clear  enough  that  Saul  wishes  to  kill 
you;  the  devil  that  possesses  him  is  not  a  devil  of 
foolishness,  and  has  not  robbed  him  of  his  intelli- 
gence— he  sees  quite  plainly  that  you  are  a  danger 
to  him." 

Samuel  paused  suddenly  and  looked  at  David, 
who  smiled  uneasily. 

"I  have  two  pieces  of  advice  for  you,"  the 
Prophet  went  on.  "In  the  first  place,  it  is  time  you 
left  Gibeah.  You  might  escape  with  your  life 
again — or  you  might  not — it  is  unwise  to  run  un- 
necessary risks  when  you  have  to  run  so  many  that 
are  necessary.  For  a  while  you  will  no  doubt  be 
able  to  hide  in  the  caves  and  deserts  of  Judea,  but 
if  your  position  becomes  untenable  I  should  recom- 


74  DAVID  THE  SON  OF  JESSE 

mend  you  to  take  refuge — for  a  time — with  the 
Philistines.  You  might  put  yourself  under  the 
protection  of  Achish  of  Gath." 

David  stared  at  the  old  man  in  amazement.  He 
had  a  shrewd  idea  of  the  sort  of  "protection"  the 
Philistines  would  afford  him.     Samuel  went  on: 

"My  other  piece  of  advice  is  this.  Though  Saul 
is  in  a  sense  your  enemy,  there  is  a  sense  in  which 
you  are  both  united  against  the  rest  of  the  world — 
you  are  both  the  anointed  of  Yahweh.  The  people 
of  this  country  do  not  as  yet  fully  accept  the 
sanctity — the  set-apartness — of  the  king,  for  the 
monarchy  is  a  new  system  with  them,  and  a  little 
thing  might  be  enough  to  make  them  destroy  it 
again.  Remember  that;  and  remember  that  every 
deed  against  Saul  is  a  deed  against  yourself.  .  .  . 
Now  rest,  for  you  have  spent  a  sleepless  night  and 
need  repose." 

When  David  awoke  he  heard  voices  in  conversa- 
tion, and,  opening  his  eyes,  saw  Elihu  talking  to  the 
Prophet.  The  sight  surprised  him  so  much  that  he 
was  instantly  fully  awake  and  on  his  feet,  though 
he  saw  quickly  from  Samuel's  face  that  there  was . 
no  danger. 

"The  Lord  be  with  you,"  said  Elihu.  "I  come 
with  a  message  from  Jonathan,"  and  he  held  out 


AT  SAUL'S  COURT  75 

a  belt  that  Jonathan  often  wore,  as  a  sign  that  this 
was  so. 

"Speak  on,"  said  David,  taking  the  belt  almost 
mechanically. 

"Jonathan  sends  word  that  he  has  spoken  with 
the  king;  that  the  devil  has  left  him  and  that  you 
may  safely  return.  .  .  .  But  if  I  know  women  you 
may  find  that  the  devil  has  entered  into  Michal 
instead — he  would  certainly  have  entered  my  Re- 
bekah  if  I  had  left  her  on  the  wedding  night! " 

"Be    silent!"    exclaimed    Samuel    sternly,    and 
Elihu   collapsed.     "What   are   you   going   to   do, 
•David?" 

"If  Jonathan  says  the  devil  has  gone  .  .  ." 
began  David,  hesitating. 

"Pshaw!"  said  Samuel.  "Jonathan  is  talking 
nonsense — very  likely  the  devil  has  gone — but  how 
long  will  he  stay  away?  He  has  left  and  returned 
more  than  once  before  now." 

"Yes  .  .  .  that 's  true  .  .  ."  David  spoke  slowly 
and  tentatively.  "But  I  think  I  '11  go  back,  all  the 
same  .  .  .  You  see,  I  left  rather  in  a  hurry.  ..." 

Samuel's  blue  eyes  were  fixed  on  his  face; 
presently  he  gave  a  laugh. 

"Well — I  see  you  're  determined — go  back  then, 
to  your  bride,  and  may  Yahweh  give  you  peace. 


76  DAVID  THE  SON  OF  JESSE 

.  .  .  No,  Elihu,  I  want  you  to  stay  here,  for  I 
have  a  great  many  questions  to  ask  you." 

Samuel  would  not  let  David  go  until  he  had 
had  a  meal,  and  in  consequence  he  did  not  reach 
Gibeah  till  the  town  gates  were  shut.  He  wrapped 
himself  in  his  coat  and  slept  under  the  wall,  and  in 
the  morning  went  straight  to  find  Jonathan. 

"David!  How  glad  I  am  you  have  come  back! 
You  don't  know  how  terrible  it  is  to  be  without 
you! "  he  cried  when  he  saw  him.  "And  all  is  well 
now — all  is  safe.  My  father  swore  to  me — 'As 
Yahweh  liveth  he  shall  not  be  put  to  death' — come, 
and  let  me  bring  you  to  him." 

It  was  not  to  Saul  that  David  wished  to  go,  but 
to  Saul's  daughter.  However  he  made  no  protest, 
but  followed  Jonathan  into  the  king's  room.  When 
he  lifted  up  his  head  from  his  obeisance  he  did  not 
feel  nearly  as  sure  as  Jonathan  that  the  devil  had 
gone.  Saul's  eyes  were  red,  his  hand  trembled  as 
he  played  with  a  long  bronze  spear,  and  his  voice 
shook  when  he  answered  David's  greeting.  Jona- 
than also  seemed  surprised  and  taken  aback  by  his 
father's  condition,  and  presently  suggested,  rather 
nervously,  that  David  should  play  the  harp.  Saul 
nodded,  without  speaking,  and  a  servant  was  sent 
to  David's  house  to  fetch  it. 

Saul  was  sitting  on  the  bench  heaped  up  with 


AT  SAUL'S  COURT  77 

cushions,  and  David  took  his  place  opposite,  with 
his  back  to  the  wall,  while  Jonathan  sat  beside  hira. 
As  the  player's  hand  swept  the  strings  Saul  became 
absorbed  in  the  music,  and  the  dark  cloud  that 
seemed  to  hang  over  him  began  to  clear.  But 
suddenly  there  came  a  change.  What  caused  it? 
Did  the  devil  return?  Did  David  play  too  wild  a 
chord?  Did  Jonathan  caress  David's  arm?  A 
shout  that  was  almost  a  howl  burst  from  Saul  and 
the  great  bronze  spear  flew  from  his  hand.  David 
leapt  aside  and  the  spear  stuck  quivering  in  the 
wall.  In  another  moment  Saul  had  found  and 
hurled  another,  lighter  javelin;  and  at  that  David 
ducked  and  jumped  for  the  door.  Jonathan  gave 
one  glance  at  his  father,  who  had  fallen  face  down- 
ward on  the  bench,  and  rushed  after  his  friend. 


Chapter  XII 

David  ran  right  out  of  the  town  of  Gibeah  and 
did  not  stop  till  he  came  to  the  open  fields.  He 
did  not  know  what  orders  Saul  might  have  given 
to  his  servants,  and  had  no  fancy  for  finding  Doeg's 
sword  in  his  ribs.     When  at  last  he  stopped  he 


78  DAVID  THE  SON  OF  JESSE 

heard  footsteps  coming  after  him,  and  turned  des- 
perately and  fiercely.     But  it  was  Jonathan. 

They  looked  at  each  other  in  silence  for  a  few 
moments,  panting  for  breath;  then  David  spoke. 

"What  does  it  mean,  Jonathan?  What  have  I 
done?  How  have  I  injured  your  father,  that  he 
should  be  so  determined  to  take  my  life?" 

"No,  no!"  cried  Jonathan.  "It  is  a  mistake. 
It  is  not  that  he  is  determined  to  take  your  life,  but 
only  that  at  moments  he  is  seized  with  some  un- 
controllable and  meaningless  rage.  How  can  he 
resist  the  devil  that  inspires  him?  I  am  sure  it  is 
only  by  impulse  that  he  acts  like  this,  for  if  it  was 
a  deliberate  plan  he  would  have  told  me  about  it — 
he  tells  me  everything  he  means  to  do,  and  why 
should  he  hide  this  if  it  were  true?     But  it  is  not." 

David  shook  his  head. 

"He  knows  that  you  love  me.  He  says  to  him- 
self: 'I  will  not  tell  Jonathan,  for  it  would  grieve 
him' — but  as  sure  as  Yahweh  lives  there  is  but  a 
step  between  me  and  death." 

Jonathan  had  begun  to  tremble  violently.  The 
horrible  truth  to  which  he  had  so  long  insisted  on 
shutting  his  eyes  was  becoming  too  strong  even  for 
his  passionate  hopes.  His  knees  suddenly  felt 
weak  and  he  sat  down  on  the  ground. 


AT  SAUL'S  COURT  79 

"Well,"  said  he,  faintly,  "what  shall  I  do?  I 
will  do  whatever  you  want  me  to." 

David  sighed  deeply.  He,  too,  felt  a  wave  of 
despair  rush  over  him — the  long  struggle  for  his 
life  with  Saul,  the  plots  and  counterplots,  the  at- 
tacks and  flights,  all  hidden  under  masks  of  friend- 
ship, madness,  or  respect,  had  suddenly  become 
hateful  to  him.     He  must  give  it  all  up. 

"Jonathan,"  he  said,  "you  made  a  blood  covenant 
with  me.  If  I  have  done  wrong  kill  me  yourself — 
do  not  give  me  up  to  your  father." 

"Don't  talk  like  that,  David,"  answered  Jonathan. 
"If  I  knew  that  my  father  intended  mischief  against 
you,  of  course  I  would  tell  you."  There  was  a 
pause.  Jonathan  felt  a  ghastly  sinking  when 
David  did  not  speak,  and  seizing  hold  of  his  coat 
whispered,  his  breath  catching: 

"You  do  believe  that,  don't  you,  David?" 

David  smiled  and  took  Jonathan's  hand  in  his. 
"Dear  Jonathan,  yes." 

Jonathan  breathed  more  freely;  and  immediately 
began  to  wonder  if  after  all  it  could  be  true  that 
his  father  wanted  to  kill  David — beautiful,  ador- 
able David !  No.  It  could  n't  be.  It  must  have 
been  his  own  fault — he  must  have  been  tactless  and 
irritating.     He  would  try  again,  and  this  time  he 


80  DAVID  THE  SON  OF  JESSE 

would  make  his  father  realize  that  there  was  no 
fault  in  David,  and  then  all  would  be  well.  David 
would  come  back  to  Gibeah  and  they  would  all  be 
happy — it  was  quite  easy — his  father  would  surely 
understand.  He  jumped  up  and  caught  David's 
arm. 

"Listen,"  he  said,  "I  have  a  plan.  You  shall 
stay  out  here  to-day.  To-morrow  is  the  feast  of  the 
new  moon,  and  you  will  be  missed.  If  my  father 
is  angry  then  we  shall  know  that  he  has  deter- 
mined to  do  you  harm ;  but  if  he  says  nothing  it  will 
mean  that  you  can  come  back  in  safety." 

"Well,"  said  David.  He  remembered  Samuel's 
advice;  and  it  was  quite  clear  that  Jonathan  either 
could  not  or  would  not  judge  rightly  of  the  king's 
mood.  Yet  somehow  he  did  not  dispute  Jonathan's 
judgment  or  oppose  his  idea;  he  only  wanted  to 
arrange  some  way  of  communicating  with  him. 

"How  shall  I  know  what  answer  your  father 
makes?"  he  asked,  and  Jonathan  had  another  plan 
ready. 

"Do  you  go  down  in  the  morning  to  the  mound 
by  the  tamarisk  tree ;  I  will  come  with  my  bow  and 
arrow  and  shoot,  as  if  at  a  mark,  and  if  I  say  to 
my  boy,  'Fetch  the  arrows;  they  are  on  this  side,' 
then  you  will  know  that  you  can  safely  return,  and 


AT  SAUL'S  COURT  81 

no  harm  is  intended  to  you.  But  if  I  say,  'The 
arrows  are  beyond  you,'  then  do  not  wait,  but  de- 
part without  delay — Yahweh  has  sent  you  away." 

David  weighed  the  proposal  in  silence.  At  last 
he  looked  up  into  Jonathan's  face  and  spoke  very 
earnestly. 

"Jonathan,  you  will  be  very  careful,  won't  you, 
and  let  me  know  truly  if  your  father  is  angry?" 

Again  a  wave  of  despair  came  over  Jonathan. 
Everything  seemed  hopeless — his  father  unrelenting, 
David  untrusting,  he  himself  helpless.  Yet,  as  he 
stood  brooding  over  the  misery  of  the  situation,  the 
strength  of  his  love  for  David  welled  up  in  his 
heart  and  gave  him  strength  and  confidence. 

"May  I  suffer  all  and  more  than  all  you  suffer, 
if  I  conceal  my  father's  anger  from  you.  You  shall 
go  safely  away  and  Yahweh  shall  be  with  you,  as 
he  was  years  ago  with  my  father.  And  on  your 
side,  David,  will  you  show  kindness  not  only  to  me 
while  I  am  alive,  but  after  I  am  dead  to  the  children 
of  my  house?  The  time  will  come  when  all  your 
enemies  will  be  destroyed  from  off  the  face  of  the 
earth;  then  remember  your  poor  Jonathan,  and  be 
good  to  those  that  bear  his  name." 

The  blood  rushed  to  David's  cheeks.  Jonathan, 
then,  recognized  clearly  this  thing  that  was  in  him, 


82  DAVID  THE  SON  OF  JESSE 

which — he  had  always  felt  sure  himself — would 
carry  him  through  any  difficulties  that  might  beset 
him.  Jonathan  was  appealing  to  him  for  help — 
assuring  him  of  his  own  success — ^prophesying  the 
downfall  of  his  enemies.  All  this  was  sure  to  come, 
and  worth,  therefore,  a  few  more  struggles.  His 
vitality  reasserted  itself;  he  turned,  smiling,  with 
shining  eyes,  to  Jonathan. 

"Yes,"  he  said;  "trust  me,  Jonathan.  I  shall 
always  love  you,  and  I  will  spare  you  and  your 
sons  in  the  day  when  I  triumph." 

After  Jonathan  had  returned  to  Gibeah,  David 
went  and  hid  by  the  mound  near  the  tamarisk,  and 
there  he  stayed  during  the  feast  of  the  new  moon. 
The  time  did  not  seem  long  to  him.  He  was  in  a 
state  of  exhilaration  in  which  he  was  sure  that  every- 
thing was  favorable  to  him,  and  he  dreamt  many 
dreams  and  sang  to  himself  songs  of  victory  and 
rejoicing.  The  morning  after  the  feast  he  heard 
Jonathan  approaching  with  his  boy,  and  made  ready 
to  come  out  and  go  back  with  him.  Suddenly 
he  stopped;  he  saw  Jonathan  shoot  an  arrow  far 
over  the  boy's  head  and  heard  him  say  in  a  choking 
voice,  "Is  not  the  arrow  beyond  you?"  and  at  the 
words  his  castles  crashed  to  the  ground.  He  stood 
quite  still.     Jonathan  raised  his  voice  and  cried 


AT  SAUL'S  COURT  S3 

out  loudly  and  evidently  with  meaning:  "Quick, 
make  haste,  make  haste!"  and  understanding  the 
hint  David  pulled  his  coat  up  through  his  belt, 
turned  his  back  on  Gibeah,  and  hurried  southward 
as  fast  as  he  could. 


PART  II 

IN  THE  WILDERNESS 

Chapter  I 

WHAT  was  it  that  Samuel  had  said?  That  he 
would  be  able  to  hide  in  the  caves  of  Judea 
and  the  Shephelah.  .  .  .  No  doubt  that  would  be 
the  best  plan.  He  could  go  through  Bethlehem  on 
his  way,  to  tell  his  father  and  mother  what  had 
happened,  and  perhaps  some  of  the  Bethlehemites 
would  join  him.  With  one  or  two  determined  men 
to  back  him  up  he  was  ready  to  defy  Saul,  even  if 
he  should  send  after  him  and  catch  him — he  would 
give  a  good  account  of  himself  before  being  dragged 
back  to  Gibeah.  .  .  .  But  a  necessary  preliminary 
to  all  this  was  to  secure  a  good  sword — he  had  left 
the  town  without  any  weapon — and  moreover  he 
had  not  a  proper  meal  since  leaving  Samuel  two 
days  ago,  and  the  most  urgent  thing  of  all  was 
something  to  eat.  Vital  as  this  point  was  becoming, 
he  hurried  on  southward  as  fast  as  he  could,  dread- 

8s 


86  DAVID  THE  SON  OF  JESSE 

ing  pursuit,  determined  to  put  distance  and  a 
weapon  between  himself  and  his  enemy.  As  he 
hurried  along  he  approached  the  high  hill  of  Nob 
— about  two  miles  east  of  Jerusalem — and  quickly 
decided  what  to  do  next. 

"If  I  don't  get  something  to  eat  at  once — and 
a  sword  as  well — Saul  will  send  out  word  that  no 
one  is  to  help  me,  and  I  shall  be  made  prisoner 
before  I  can  reach  Judea.  ...  I  '11  try  the  priests 
of  the  temple.  I  shall  be  surprised  if  I  can't  either 
frighten  or  bluff  them  into  supplying  me  with 
my  needs.  .  .  ." 

David  was  beginning  to  feel  faint,  and  it  was 
with  difficulty  that  he  struggled  up  the  steep  hill- 
side. He  passed  through  the  town  of  the  priests,  on 
the  slope  of  the  hill,  and  pushed  on  up  to  the  high 
place,  with  its  sanctuary  and  temple.  As  he  came 
near  the  holy  buildings  there  was  the  usual  com- 
motion and  chattering,  and  presently  the  priest, 
Ahimelech,  came  out  to  receive  the  king's  son- 
in-law. 

Ahimelech  was  an  elderly  man,  thin  and  bent, 
and  even  during  the  salutations  David  came  to  the 
conclusion  that  he  was  nervous  and  would  prove 
amenable  to  a  firm  attitude. 

"Yes — yes — "  said  Ahimelech,  "certainly — the 
Lord  be  with  you — ^may  you  find  favor  in  his  eyes 


IN  THE  WILDERNESS  87 

— I  have  prospered,  by  the  grace  of  Yahweh — but 
why  are  you  all  alone?  Surely  you  have  not  come 
by  yourself?" 

"Of  course  not,"  said  David.  "Come  a  little 
further  off  so  that  we  are  not  overheard.  ..." 

They  moved  together  toward  the  temple. 

"Well — your  escort?  Where  are  they?  Have 
you  come  on  a  message  from  my  lord  the  king? 
Is  there  anything  you  want?  I  'm  afraid  I  can  do 
very  little.  .  ..." 

"Yes,  I  am  on  the  king's  business,"  answered 
David,  "but  he  gave  me  strict  injunctions  to  keep 
it  secret — I  am  not  to  tell  any  one  what  it  is." 

"Certainly,  certainly,"  said  Ahimelech,  "I  should 
not  dream  of  asking.  I  hope  you  don't  think  I  am 
one  to  pry  into  the  king's  private  affairs." 

"As  to  my  men,  I  am  to  meet  them  a  little  way 
from  here — but  I  can't  tell  you  exactly  where  it  is 
to  be." 

"I  should  n't  be  so  indiscreet  as  to  ask — doubt- 
less you  have  your  own  reasons  for  acting  as  you 
do." 

"I  have,"  thought  David,  and  went  on  aloud: 
"I  want  some  food  for  the  men  who  are  with  me 
— let  me  take  anything  you  have — five  loaves  of 
bread  and  anything  else  that  is  handy." 

Ahimelech 's  long  face  grew  longer. 


88  DAVID  THE  SON  OF  JESSE 

"Bread?  But  I  haven't  any.  There  will  be 
some  baked  this  evening,  though." 

"This  evening  won't  do,"  said  David  decidedly, 
feeling  how  very  empty  his  stomach  was.  "You 
must  give  me  some  at  once — do  you  hear?" 

"Yes — yes — certainly,"  quavered  Ahimelech. 
"It 's  very  awkward — I  really  don't  know — but  you 
shall  have  some — only  be  patient.  .  .  ." 

"How  can  I  be  patient  when  I  am  on  the  king's 
business?  Come,  Ahimelech,  don't  keep  me  wait- 
ing any  longer." 

"Well,  what  can  I  do?  Let  me  see — well,  there  's 
the  holy  bread — the  presence  bread — but  I  can't 
give  that  to  you  unless  you  've  been  purified.  .  .  ." 

"Now  you  know,  Ahimelech,  that  to  go  on  a 
military  expedition  we  must  be  purified — it 's  three 
days  since  we  went  in  to  the  women — and  the  holy 
bread  will  only  purify  our  bags  afresh.  Come 
along,  and  give  me  what  you  've  got." 

Ahimelech  groaned,  but  David's  hand  was  on 
his  shoulder,  and  he  allowed  himself  to  be  propelled 
toward  the  temple.  As  they  approached  it  David 
saw  a  figure  that  seemed  familiar  squatting  on  the 
ground  of  the  precincts ;  when  he  got  near  he  recog- 
nized it  as  Doeg  the  Edomite. 

"The   Lord   preserve   you,"   said   David,    and 


IN  THE  WILDERNESS  89 

touched  his  forehead.  Doeg  only  grunted  and 
turned  away,  huddling  himself  up  in  his  cloak. 

"Doeg  takes  part  in  a  sacrifice  to-day,"  explained 
Ahimelech.  "He  stayed  here  last  night  to  purify 
himself — but  I  shall  be  glad  when  he  goes  away — 
I  don't  know  why  it  is — he  makes  my  flesh  creep. 
He  speaks  so  loud,  and  he  's  always  thumping  with 
his  spear  on  the  ground." 

By  this  time  they  were  at  the  temple  door.  They 
stepped  carefully  over  the  raised  threshold  and 
entered.  On  a  table  in  the  space  before  them  was 
a  pile  of  thin  cakes  of  unleavened  bread,  and  these, 
with  a  good  deal  of  lamenting  and  head-shaking 
the  priest  handed  over  to  David.  David's  mouth 
watered,  but  he  dared  not  fall  upon  the  bread  in 
Ahimelech 's  presence  lest  he  should  suspect  some- 
thing. 

"There  's  one  other  thing,"  he  said,  eyeing  his 
prize  longingly.  "Have  you  a  spear  or  sword  you 
can  let  me  have?  I  left  Gibeah  in  such  a  hurry 
that  I  brought  nothing  with  me." 

"The  sword  of  Goliath  the  Philistine  is  here," 
answered  Ahimelech,  "but  that  is  the  only  one." 

"Give  it  to  me,"  cried  David  eagerly;  "there  is 
no  sword  like  it — fetch  it  quickly." 

The  priest  turned   away  sighing  to   fetch  the 


90  DAVID  THE  SON  OF  JESSE 

weapon.  David  glanced  quickly  round  him,  faced 
about,  and  began  devouring  a  piece  of  bread,  trust- 
ing Ahimelech  would  not  notice  what  he  was  doing. 
He  was  munching  wolfishly  at  a  bit  he  held  in  his 
hand  when  he  glanced  up,  and  saw  a  face  looking  in 
through  the  door.  It  was  Doeg;  the  ugly  yellow 
eyes  stared  at  him  for  a  moment,  and  then  a  fero- 
cious grin  covered  the  Edomite's  whole  face.  It  in- 
stantly withdrew,  but  David  had  a  sensation  that 
he  had  been  found  out  by  some  one  who  would 
make  use  of  it  if  he  could. 

At  that  moment  Ahimelech  returned,  carrying  the 
great  sword  of  Goliath  wrapped  in  a  linen  cloth. 
David  took  it,  removed  the  covering,  and  immedi- 
ately the  sight  of  the  beautiful  iron  blade  banished 
everything  else  from  his  thoughts.  He  held  it  in 
one  hand  and  ran  the  tips  of  his  fingers  along  the 
edge;  he  grasped  the  hilt  and  swung  it  to  feel  the 
balance,  then  with  a  sigh  of  pleasure  he  fastened  it 
to  his  belt.  While  he  was  doing  this  another  idea 
occurred  to  him. 

"Now,  Ahimelech,"  he  said,  as  he  straightened 
himself,  "you  shall  inquire  of  Yahweh  for  me  where 
I  am  to  go  when  I  leave  the  temple — whether  it  is 
to  be  the  first  place  I  have  thought  of  or  the  second 
place,"  and  he  thought  to  himself  the  first  place  is 


IN  THE  WILDERNESS  91 

Adullam,  and  the  second  place  is  the  wilderness 
of  Maon. 

This  time  the  priest  made  no  protest.  He  was 
quite  accustomed  to  consult  the  oracle  for  Saul  and 
Saul's  messengers,  and  not  suspecting  for  a  moment 
that  David  did  not  come  officially  from  the  king 
he  went  off  to  the  ephod  and  made  his  preparations 
for  casting  the  sacred  lot.  When  all  was  ready 
there  was  a  pause,  and  presently  David  heard  him 
say: 

"Oh,  Yahweh,  God  of  Israel,  thy  servant  David 
asks  where  he  shall  go — if  to  the  first  place  in  his 
thoughts  give  Urim ;  but  if  it  should  be  to  the  second 
place  in  his  thoughts  give  Thummim."  Silence — 
followed  by  a  shriek  from  the  priest,  who  came 
tumbling  out,  his  teeth  chattering  and  his  hands 
trembling. 

"Stop,  stop,"  called  David,  catching  hold  of  him 
as  he  tried  to  rush  out  of  the  temple.  "Where  are 
you  going?  What  happened?  Was  it  Urim  or 
Thummim?     The  first  place  or  the  second?" 

"Oh,  oh!"  shrieked  Ahimelech.  "Such  a  thing 
has  never  happened  before.  I  have  known  Yahweh 
to  give  no  answer — but  this  time — this  time  he  gave 
Urim  and  Thummim!" 

David  dropped  his  arm  and  considered.     "You 


92  DAVID  THE  SON  OF  JESSE 

said  *if  the  first  place  give  Urim  and  if  the  second 
give  Thummim'?  And  he  gave  both.  The  oracle 
is  clear — wherever  I  go  Yahweh  will  protect  me — 
because,"  he  added  in  his  heart,  "because  I  am  his 
anointed.  Ahimelech,"  he  said  aloud,  "it  is  a 
sign  of  good  fortune." 

Ahimelech  shook  his  head.  He  knew  better. 
He  knew  it  was  because  he  had  bungled  the  busi- 
ness, and  that  far  from  being  a  sign  of  good  for- 
tune it  was  a  sign  of  disaster.  But  David  did  not 
wait  to  reason  with  him.  He  strode  out  of  the 
temple,  and  with  sparkling  eyes  and  head  erect 
swung  out  of  the  precincts  and  down  the  hill,  ig- 
noring the  malevolent  scowling  figure  of  Doeg  the 
Edomite. 


Chapter  II 

Directly  David  got  out  of  sight  of  the  priests' 
city  he  found  some  shade  under  a  patch  of  mul- 
berry trees  and  ate  as  much  as  he  wanted  of  the 
holy  bread;  he  had  filled  his  water  bottle  at  the  well 
of  Nob,  so  he  could  have  a  deep  drink  too.  The 
meal  over,  he  rolled  onto  his  face  and  slept  pro- 
foundly.    He  woke  with  the  suddenness  and  com- 


IN  THE  WILDERNESS  93 

pleteness  of  perfect  health,  and  was  instantly  up  and 
on  the  way  to  Bethlehem.  As  he  walked  he  kept 
turning  over  in  his  mind  the  events  of  the  morning, 
chuckling  at  the  thought  of  Ahimelech's  terror,  and 
wondering  at  the  strangeness  of  the  oracle  of 
Yahweh.  As  he  smiled  to  himself  over  these  recol- 
lections there  seemed  to  swim  before  his  eyes  the 
savage,  snarling  face  of  Doeg.  His  heart  sank. 
The  Edomite  appeared  an  incarnation  of  the  ruth- 
lessness  of  physical  violence — a  ruthlessness  to 
which  the  forces  within  himself  seemed  utterly 
opposed,  but  as  yet  too  weak  to  alter  or  affect  in 
any  way.  Try  as  he  might  to  smother  this  reflec- 
tion, it  nevertheless  left  a  certain  discomfort  in  his 
mind. 

He  reached  Bethlehem  just  as  the  evening  meal 
was  starting.  They  were  all  surprised  and  pleased 
to  see  him,  and  his  father  made  him  sit  down  beside 
him  and  eat  heartily  before  allowing  any  questions. 
At  last,  when  David's  appetite  began  to  be  appeased, 
Jesse  said  with  a  smile: 

"So  you  are  married  to  the  king's  daughter  now! " 
Somehow  David  was  staggered.  Was  it  really 
only  five  days  since  his  abortive  wedding?  So  much 
had  happened  since,  that  to  him  the  episode  seemed 
stale ;  he  had  forgotten  that  it  would  be  the  last  news 
of  him  his  people  would  have  had,  and  that  it  would 


94  DAVID  THE  SON  OF  JESSE 

be  filling  their  thoughts.  But  he  could  not  speak 
of  it. 

"Yes." 

He  spoke  gloomily  and  coldly — ^pushed  out  his 
underlip  and  stared  at  the  floor.  There  was  no 
invitation  in  his  behavior  to  pursue  the  subject, 
and  Jesse  glanced  at  David's  mother  and  was 
silent. 

Presently  David  looked  up  and  spoke. 

*T  have  lost  the  favor  of  Saul.  He  wants  to  kill 
me,  and  I  am  flying  for  my  life." 

This  was  a  bombshell,  and  the  whole  table 
gasped. 

"My  son,"  said  Jesse,  recovering  himself,  "you 
must  tell  us  more  than  this.  We  have  heard  of 
nothing  but  your  success — how  you  became  the 
king's  armor-bearer,  the  captain  of  a  thousand,  the 
husband  of  the  king's  daughter — and  now  you 
tell  us  you  are  flying  for  your  life.  How  can  this 
be?" 

"I  hardly  know,  myself,"  replied  David.  "The 
king  has  an  evil  spirit.  .  .  ." 

"We  have  heard,  too,"  mused  Jesse,  "of  nothing 
but  your  victories  over  the  Philistines — you  are 
quite  a  hero  among  the  tribesmen." 

"Perhaps,"  suggested  David,  "if  I  had  not  found 


IN  THE  WILDERNESS  95 

so  much  lavor  with  them  I  should  not  have  lost  so 
much  favor  with  Saul." 

Jesse  pondered,  gazing  thoughtfully  at  his  son. 
At  last  he  made  a  gesture  with  his  hand  as  if 
dismissing  the  subject. 

"However  that  may  be,  you  will  have  some  plan 
of  escape,  and  will  want  help  from  your  kinsfolk," 
he  said. 

"Yes,"  answered  David;  "I  had  thought  of  going 
to  AduUam — you  know  the  big  cave  there?  One 
could  lie  hidden  a  long  while.  And  if  any  of  the 
Judeans  joined  me" — he  looked  sideways  at  his 
father  to  see  if  he  approved  of  this,  but  the  old  man's 
face  remained  inscrutable — "we  could  fortify  the 
hill,  and  have  a  fine  camp  there." 

"H'm,"  said  Jesse,  "so  you  want  men  to  join 
you  .  .  .  you  think  Saul  will  send  out  and  try  to 
take  you?" 

"Well,  I  think  so,"  said  David,  "and  anyhow 
he  will  very  likely  send  after  you.  He  '11  make 
sure  you  know  where  I  am  and  are  helping  me  and 
will  want  to  put  a  stop  to  that.  I  don't  believe 
you  '11  be  safe  in  Bethlehem.  ..." 

"Your  mother  and  I  are  too  old  to  become  out- 
laws, David.  You  may  fix  on  Adullam  now,  but 
if  Saul  is  really  set  on  your  capture  you  won't  be 


96  DAVID  THE  SON  OF  JESSE 

able  to  stay  there  long — it  will  be  first  one  place 
and  then  another,  through  the  hot  days  and  the  cold. 
We  can't  wander  about  like  that.  As  for  the  young 
men,  it 's  different.  You  'd  better  go  and  talk  to 
them  about  it — they  can  do  as  they  like." 

With  this  permission  David  got  up  and  moved 
to  a  comer  of  the  room  where  he  was  soon  sur- 
rounded by  the  younger  members  of  the  household, 
all  agog  to  hear  his  adventures  and  his  plans  for 
the  future. 

"Well,"  said  Joab,  after  hearing  what  David  had 
to  say  as  to  Saul's  continued  hostility,  "well,  you 
seem  to  have  got  yourself  into  a  lot  of  difficulties, 
David,  and  as  far  as  I  can  see  you  've  involved  all 
of  us.  The  king  won't  leave  a  man  of  Jesse's 
household  in  peace,  I  should  say,  and  if  my  grand- 
father consents,  it  appears  to  me  we  've  no  choice 
to  go  off  to." 

"You  heard  what  my  father  said,"  answered 
David. 

"Yes,"  said  Asahel,  eagerly.  "I'll  come  with 
you,  David." 

David  laughed,  but  he  was  pleased  at  Asahel's 
eagerness. 

"Look  here,"  said  Abishai.  "I  don't  see  why 
we  should  be  the  only  ones  to  join  you.     There  are 


IN  THE  WILDERNESS  97 

plenty  of  men  about  who  aren't  too  well  pleased 
with  the  way  things  are  going,  and  who  would  come 
out  to  any  one  who  had  a  chance  of  protecting  them 
from  attack." 

"Not  pleased  with  the  way  things  are  going?" 
David  was  n't  sure  what  he  meant. 

"Oh,"  laughed  Joab,  scornfully,  "he  means  fel- 
lows like  his  dear  Elhanan  and  Eleazar,  the  sons  of 
Dodai.  It  seems  Dodai  got  into  debt,  and  when 
he  died  his  fields  were  seized  by  the  creditors;  so 
Elhanan  and  Eleazar  are  landless  men,  and  have 
nothing  to  do  but  rove  up  and  down  the  country, 
and  threaten  every  one  in  authority  for  not  getting 
their  fields  back  for  them." 

"They  're  splendid  fighters,"  said  David,  de- 
lighted at  the  idea  of  enrolling  such  supporters;  "I 
know  them  quite  well.  Do  you  really  think  they  'd 
come,  Abishai?" 

"Yes,  I  dare  say,"  answered  Abishai,  rather  sulky 
with  Joab,  "but  I  wasn't  thinking  of  them. 
There  's  a  Hittite,  a  man  called  Ahimelech,  who  's 
here  with  his  young  brother  Uriah.  He  's  got  some 
grievance  against  Saul — I  don't  exactly  know  what 
it  is,  but  I  believe  he  'd  join  any  enemy  of  the  king's 
— he  talks  of  going  over  to  the  Philistines." 

"Just  the  sort  I  want,"  said  David.     "If  you 


98  DAVID  THE  SON  OF  JESSE 

know  any  others  of  that  kind,  do  let  us  have  them 
— only  we  must  be  sure  they  're  sound — ^that  's  the 
main  thing." 

After  a  few  more  words  it  was  agreed  that  David 
and  Joab  should  go  on  to  Adullam  the  next  morn- 
ing and  that  Abishai  and  the  other  men  of  the 
household  should  follow  with  any  suitable  friends 
they  could  gather  together. 

"I  am  anxious  about  you  and  my  mother,"  said 
David,  when  telling  his  father  what  had  been  set- 
tled. "I  will  think  over  what  I  can  do  for  you — 
I  don't  at  all  like  leaving  you  alone  in  Bethlehem." 

Jesse  smiled.  "Thank  you,  my  son,"  he  said; 
"it  appears  to  me  you  had  better  be  anxious  about 
your  own  affairs — you  don't  seem  to  have  managed 
them  as  well  as  we  hoped." 

"Oh,  David,"  cried  Asahel,  suddenly,  "is  that  an 
iron  sword?  Do  tell  me  how  you  got  it!  May  I 
look  at  it?" 

"Yes,"  said  David,  unbuckling  it  for  the  boy  to 
look  at,  "It 's  a  beauty.  It  belonged  to  Goliath 
of  Gath." 

"Oo-oo-oo,  David!  And  did  you  get  it  from 
him  when  you  killed  him  with  your  sling?" 

"I?  I  never  killed  him — it  was  Elhanan  the  son 
of  Jair  who  killed  him —  Now,  Asahel,  I  want  to 
go  to  sleep." 


IN  THE  WILDERNESS  99 

Chapter  III 

"How  old  do  you  suppose  my  father  is?"  asked 
David  of  Joab  as  they  went  toward  Adullam  the 
next  morning. 

"How  should  I  know?"  said  Joab.  "He  's  an 
old  man," 

"Do  you  know  how  old  he  was  when  I  was 
born?" 

"Why  should  I?  Oh,  I  do  remember  my  mother 
saying  she  was  born  the  day  he  was  thirty." 

"And  I  am  nearly  twenty-three,  and  twenty-two 
years  younger  than  Zeruiah  .  .  .  that  would  make 
him  seventy-four,  wouldn't  it?" 

"I  dare  say — what  do  I  care? — and  why  should 
you  care?     Any  one  can  see  he  's  an  old  man." 

"Yes.  ...  I  don't  think  it 's  a  bit  safe  to  leave 
him  at  Bethlehem." 

Joab  grunted.  David  was  very  queer  sometimes, 
worrying  his  mind  about  perplexing  subjects  that 
did  n't  affect  what  one  did  ...  no  wonder  he  got 
himself  into  trouble. 

After  a  while  they  came  to  bare,  chalky  hills, 
and  here  David  began  to  look  carefully  for  the  cave 
he  had  in  his  mind.  He  scanned  the  countryside, 
and  at  last  went  to  the  base  of  a  hill  about  500  feet 


100        DAVID  THE  SON  OF  JESSE 

high,  in  which  a  black  opening  could  be  seen.  He 
peered  in,  and  then  turned  and  shouted  to  Joab. 

"Come  on!     This  is  the  place." 

The  cave  had  two  large  chambers  leading  one 
into  the  other,  each  about  130  yards  long.  The 
inner  chamber  had  pillars  in  it,  supporting  the 
dome-shaped  roof,  and — a  feature  of  priceless  value 
— a  spring  of  fresh  water.  These  big  chambers 
were  surrounded  by  smaller  ones,  so  that  it  seemed 
to  David,  as  he  looked  around,  a  perfect  place  for 
concealing  a  band  of  men  and  all  the  stores  and 
weapons  they  would  need.  When  they  came  out  of 
the  cave  David  took  Joab  to  the  top  of  the  hill  and 
showed  him  how  he  would  fortify  it  if  he  had 
enough  men. 

"That 's  the  road  to  Hebron — Hareth  lies  in  that 
direction,  about  three  miles  off.  There  's  Philistia 
— did  you  ever  see  such  rich  fields,  Joab? — and 
Keilah  is  this  way." 

"Well,  if  the  Philistines  think  of  raiding  Keilah 
we  could  do  them  some  damage." 

"Yes,  if  we  get  enough  men  together — I  suppose 
we  might  be  a  hundred  altogether." 

"A  hundred!  Why,  David,  what  are  you  dream- 
ing of!  If  every  man  we  thought  of  came  we 
should  n't  be  twenty-five." 

David  didn't  answer. 


IN  THE  WILDERNESS  101 

"Perhaps  not,"  he  thought  to  himself.  "I  dare 
say  it 's  all  nonsense,  but  I  can't  help  thinking  .  .  . 
when  people  hear  I  've  fled  from  Saul  .  .  .  there  '11 
be  some  who  '11  be  on  my  side  and  not  on  his  .  .  . 
though  he  is  the  king  ...  at  present." 

And  it  was  not  long  before  this  optimism  was 
more  than  justified.  Before  the  day  was  over  a 
dozen  men  arrived  who  had  heard  a  rumor  that 
David  was  making  a  camp  in  the  neighborhood  and 
wanted  to  join  it.  Early  the  next  morning  Abishai 
appeared  with  thirty  more  who  had  insisted  on  com- 
ing, and  the  news  that  many  more  were  anxious  to 
come  but  that  he  had  refused  them  until  he  heard 
David's  wishes.  David  was  of  opinion  that  the 
more  men  they  had  the  better,  and  that  every  one 
who  seemed  likely  to  be  a  useful  fighter  and  would 
bring  a  certain  quantity  of  stores  should  be  admitted 
to  the  band.  By  the  next  day  he  had  decided  he 
could  not  run  the  risk  of  leaving  his  parents  in  Beth- 
lehem, and  giving  Joab  command  of  the  camp  in  his 
absence,  he  set  off  for  home. 

On  the  twelve-mile  walk  he  was  revolving  dif- 
ferent plans  for  their  safety  and  well-being,  and 
finally  decided  that  if  they  agreed  he  would  go  over 
the  Jordan  to  Moab  and  see  if  his  Moabite  kinsfolk 
would  take  charge  of  them  for  a  while. 

"My  father  has  so  often  told  me  of  his  grand- 


102        DAVID  THE  SON  OF  JESSE 

mother,  Ruth  the  Moabitess,"  he  said  to  himself, 
"and  how  she  married  a  Judean  in  Moab  and  came 
back  to  Bethlehem  with  Naomi,  her  mother-in- 
law.  .  .  .  They  will  not  have  forgotten  her  there, 
and  perhaps  will  be  willing  to  give  protection  to  her 
grandson.  And  beyond  the  Jordan  they  will  be 
safe  from  Saul." 

When  he  reached  Bethlehem  he  found  Jesse, 
rather  alarmed  at  finding  himself  with  no  young 
men  around  him,  quite  ready  to  agree  to  David's 
suggestion.  The  journey  to  Moab  and  back  would 
take  seven  or  eight  days,  and  during  that  time  he 
could  be  making  his  final  arrangements  and  would 
not  feel  he  was  being  hurried  or  taken  at  a  disad- 
vantage. 

David  occupied  the  time  of  his  journey  to  Moab 
with  many  long  daydreams.  First  there  was  his 
reception  by  the  king — but  that  had  to  be  very 
vague,  for  he  did  n't  know  at  all  what  the  Moabites 
would  be  like.  Then  his  mind  went  back  to  Saul, 
and  he  wondered  what  he  was  doing — whether  he 
was  very  angry  at  his  flight — whether  he  had  quar- 
reled with  Jonathan — what  Michal  thought  about 
it.  It  was  too  bad  he  had  had  to  give  her  up  too 
soon,  but  he  would  win  her  again,  and  she  should 
be  his  .  .  .  her  beautiful  eyes  and  her  clear,  mock- 
ing voice.  .  .  .     Yes,  Michal  should  be  his  wife. 


IN  THE  WILDERNESS  103 

and  he  would  conquer  the  Philistines  and  make 
himself  king  (Saul  conveniently  vanished  from 
his  mind  for  the  time  being);  and  Jonathan?  .  .  . 
dear  Jonathan  should  eat  meat  at  his  table.  He 
rested  on  that  thought  for  a  little  while.  After  all, 
before — not  so  long  ago,  was  it? — he  himself  had 
been  the  servant  of  Jonathan's  father,  and  all  Jona- 
than's affection  for  him  had  worn  the  appearance 
of  condescension.  How  exquisite  it  would  be  for 
Jonathan  to  have  nothing — nothing  at  all — but  to 
owe  everything — his  food,  his  clothes — his  life  itself 
— to  David! 

"I  will  be  all  kindness,"  he  thought  to  himself; 
"he  shall  do  just  what  he  likes,  but  everything  will 
come  from  me,  instead  of  coming  from  him.  ..." 
If  there  was  anything  painful  or  humiliating  in  this 
to  the  generous,  princely  Jonathan,  he  shut  it  from 
his  mind,  and  reveled  in  the  feeling  of  his  own 
magnanimity. 

His  mission  to  Moab  was  amply  successful.  The 
kinship  was  at  once  recognized  and  hospitality  and 
protection  offered;  no  doubt  the  fears  of  Saul  that 
David  did  not  hide  from  the  king  helped  an  under- 
standing with  a  victim  of  Saul's  youthful  general- 
ship. Jesse  and  his  wife  were  to  be  under  the  king's 
own  care,  and  one  of  his  own  camels  was  lent  to 
David  to  help  the  old  people  through  the  trying 


104        DAVID  THE  SON  OF  JESSE 

ways  of  the  desert.  By  this  aid  David  got  back  to 
Bethlehem  quicker  than  he  had  thought  would  be 
possible,  and  hearing  no  news  of  Saul  left  Joab 
still  in  charge  at  Adullam  and  himself  escorted  his 
parents  to  their  place  of  refuge.  Then  at  last  he 
returned  to  Adullam. 

There  he  found  nearly  two  hundred  men  en- 
camped. Among  them  was  a  man  called  Gad,  who 
told  David  that  he  was  a  prophet  and  had  been  sent 
by  Samuel  to  join  him.  He  advised  David  to 
leave  a  store  of  food  in  the  caves,  guarded  by  half 
a  dozen  men,  and  himself  with  the  bulk  of  his 
followers  to  move  into  the  forest  of  Hareth,  about 
three  miles  off.  David  thought  it  over,  and  com- 
ing to  the  conclusion  that  it  would  be  a  better  center 
for  procuring  food  and  for  watching  Saul's  move- 
ments, agreed  with  Gad,  and  the  camp  was  struck. 


Chapter  IV 

David  had  not  been  long  in  the  forest  of  Hareth 
before  he  had  another  message  from  Samuel.  He 
was  told  that  the  messenger  had  arrived  and  wanted 
to  see  him  alone,  so  going  a  little  way  apart  from 
the  others  he  gave  orders  for  him  to  come. 


IN  THE  WILDERNESS  105 

The  man  turned  out  to  be  Elihu.  He  was  tired 
and  disheveled,  and  had  evidently  traveled  at  a 
great  pace.  In  spite  of  his  weariness  he  begged 
David  to  listen  to  his  story  at  once,  and  declared  he 
could  wait  for  food  and  rest  till  it  was  told. 

"Samuel  said  I  was  to  hurry;  of  course  I  went 
to  Ramah  first  with  the  tale,  but  he  wouldn't  let 
me  stop  a  minute  after  he  'd  heard  it.  He  was  in 
an  awful  state — I  don't  know  when  I  've  seen  him 
like  that — nothing  one  could  do  would  keep  him 
quiet.  I  kept  saying:  'What  is  there  to  be  excited 
about?  Everybody  knows  Doeg  is  a  spitfire.'  But 
he  went  on  muttering,  'Saul  means  business  this 
time,  and  David  must  know.'  " 

At  the  sound  of  Doeg's  name  David  began  to  be 
uneasy. 

"Tell  me,  Elihu,"  he  said,  "tell  me  the  whole 
story  from  the  beginning." 

"I  really  don't  think  there  's  much  to  tell,"  an- 
swered Elihu.  "It 's  true  Saul  has  sent  off  for 
Ahimelech  and  the  priests — but  you  know  what 
Saul 's  like — hot  one  moment  and  cold  the  next — 
what  a  devil  he  must  have!" 

"Well,  but  go  on,  Elihu, — tell  me  what  hap- 
pened." 

"What  happened?  Why  nothing  would  have 
happened  if  Doeg  had  not  pushed  his  oar  in — 


106        DAVID  THE  SON  OF  JESSE 

then  Saul  was  naturally  annoyed — though  good- 
ness knows  he  was  annoyed  enough  before.  ..." 

"But  Elihu,  I  don't  understand  a  word  you  're 
saying.  What  did  Doeg  do,  and  why  was  Saul 
annoyed,  and  where  were  they,  and  when  did  it 
happen?" 

"As  for  why  Saul  was  annoyed,  you  ought  to 
know  that  best.  It  happened  two  days  ago  while 
he  was  sitting  under  the  tamarisk  tree,  giving  judg- 
ment. Some  one  had  brought  up  an  old  woman, 
who  had  been  telling  fortunes,  and  you  know  how 
angry  that  always  makes  him.  'Yahweh  is  the  god 
of  the  Israelites,  you  old  witch,  and  if  any  one 
wants  to  know  the  future  he  should  get  the  priests 
to  consult  the  sacred  lot — always  with  the  king's 
permission,  of  course.  I  won't  have  you  going  to 
Chemosh  or  Dagon  or  heaven  knows  what  other 
Baal,  and  insulting  Yahweh  by  leaving  him  quite 
out  of  it.  But  you  know  all  this  yourself  and  you 
know  the  law  says  you  're  to  be  stoned.'  Then,  in 
the  middle  of  all  the  shrieking  and  shouting,  some 
one  came  running  up  to  Saul  and  began  talking  to 
him,  very  excited.  When  he  could  be  heard,  Saul 
turned  to  all  the  Benjamite  leaders  who  were  stand- 
ing round,  and  I  must  say  he  looked  black.  'So  it 's 
Adullam,  David  has  gone  to,'  he  said,  'and  how 


IN  THE  WILDERNESS  107 

many  weeks  is  it  before  I  find  that  out?  But  you  're 
all  in  league  with  him  and  my  fine  son  Jonathan/ 
he  said,  'and  plotting  to  lie  in  wait  for  me  and  kill 
me  and  take  my  kingdom.  Who  else  among  you 
have  been  helping  him  and  concealing  him?'  Well, 
we  all  hung  our  heads,  and  did  n't  say  anything, 
and  felt  uncomfortable,  and  he  began  again:  'Come, 
I  say,  which  of  you  know  what  David  has  been  do- 
ing all  this  time?'  and  then — would  you  believe 
it? — out  came  that  ugly  Edomite,  Doeg." 

Elihu  paused;  and  David,  who  had  been  listen- 
ing impatiently  to  the  long  preamble,  was  now  im- 
patient for  the  tale  to  continue. 

"  */  saw  the  son  of  Jesse,'  he  said,"  went  on 
Elihu,  "  'coming  to  Nob,  to  Ahimelech,  the  son  of 
Ahitub.'  'What!'  yelled  Saul;  'you  saw  him  at 
Nob  and  never  told  me!'  'I  didn't  know  you 
wanted  to  know,'  said  Doeg,  more  like  a  dog  snarl- 
ing than  a  man  talking,  'but  /  did  n't  help  him. 
It  was  Ahimelech  who  gave  him  food  and  Goliath's 
sword  and  consulted  Yahweh  for  him.'  At  that  I 
thought  Saul  would  :have  had  a  fit.  But  he  didn't; 
he  sent  some  messengers  to  Nob  to  bring  Ahimelech 
and  all  the  priests  to  Gibeah,  and  in  the  hurly- 
burly  I  slipped  off  to  Ramah." 

David  groaned.     It  was  clear  that  some  calam- 


108        DAVID  THE  SON  OF  JESSE 

ity  was  impending;  could  he  do  anything  to  stop  it? 
Or  would  he  be  involved? 

"Did  Samuel  send  any  message,  besides?"  he 
asked. 

"Yes,"  said  Elihu.  "He  said,  Tell  him  to 
remember  that  the  king  of  Israel  needs  the  priests 
of  Yahweh  to  interpret  the  wishes  of  the  god  of 
Israel.'  And  now,  David,  I  must  have  something 
to  eat." 

David,  left  alone,  began  walking  up  and  down 
pondering  the  tale  he  had  heard,  and  Samuel's 
cryptic  words,  The  king  of  Israel  needs  the  priests 
of  Yahweh.  But  if  in  some  way  Saul  were  to 
antagonize  them?  Were  not  Samuel's  words  a  hint 
that  David,  as  future  king  of  Israel,  should  try  to 
get  them  on  his  side?  But  how  could  he  do  that? 
They  had  all  been  summoned  to  Gibeah — what 
would  come  of  it?  As  he  walked  up  and  down  in 
deep  reflection,  the  fringe  of  his  consciousness  be- 
came aware  that  from  time  to  time  something  moved 
in  the  bushes.  At  first  he  did  not  heed  it;  but 
gradually,  as  the  intensity  of  his  meditation  relaxed, 
he  became  more  and  more  conscious  of  sound  and 
movement.  At  last,  convinced  that  some  living 
creature  was  there,  he  stopped,  and  said  in  a  com- 
manding voice: 


IN  THE  WILDERNESS  109 

"Come  out  from  your  hiding  place." 

Tliere  was  a  pause,  and  then  a  haggard,  ragged, 
bleeding  figure  emerged  from  the  underwood  and 
with  a  cry  of  "Protection!"  flung  itself  at  David's 
feet. 

David  stepped  back,  amazed  and  uneasy. 

"Who  are  you?"  he  said,  gazing  narrowly  at 
the  wretched-looking  creature,  to  see  if  he  could  rec- 
ognize it. 

"Abiathar,  son  of  Ahimelech,"  answered  a  gasp- 
ing voice, 

"Of  Ahimelech,  son  of  Ahitub?"  exclaimed 
David,  with  wide  eyes. 

"He  is  killed,  and  eighty-five  other  priests — I 
am  the  only  one  left  alive." 

"But  how  did  it  happen?" 

"He  sent  for  us  all  to  Gibeah  and  said  we  had 
plotted  with  you  against  him.  My  father  swore  he 
had  only  cast  the  sacred  lot  for  you  because  you 
were  the  king's  son-in-law  and  that  he  knew  noth- 
ing of  any  plot,  but  Saul  would  hear  nothing — he 
was  like  a  wild  beast.  He  ordered  the  soldiers  to 
kill  us,  but  they  refused,  and  then  Doeg  the  Edo- 
mite  cut  them  all  down — my  father  and  eighty-five 
others.  .  .  ."  Abiathar  shuddered  and  put  his 
hands  in  front  of  his  eyes. 


110        DAVID  THE  SON  OF  JESSE 

David  was  trembling  with  the  helplessness  of  his 
rage. 

"And  you?     How  did  you  get  here?" 

"I  don't  know — they  didn't  notice  me — I  man- 
aged to  get  to  Nob,  and  found  the  ephod — ^my 
father  had  left  it  behind — then  I  heard  Saul's 
soldiers  coming  into  the  city — they  were  burning 
and  killing  there  too,  but  I  escaped  them,  and  I 
am  here  .  .  .  with  the  ephod." 

David  saw  that  the  man  was  holding  something 
carefully  under  his  torn  clothes — something  that 
rose  and  fell  with  the  violent  heaving  of  his  pal- 
pitating heart.  He  stooped  over  him  and  took  him 
in  his  arms. 

"I  knew  it  when  I  saw  Doeg  at  Nob — I  knew  he 
would  tell  Saul.  And  it  is  I  who  am  the  cause  of 
your  kinsfolk's  death." 

"No,"  panted  Abiathar;  "it  was  Saul — may  Yah- 
weh  punish  him!  .  .  .  But  I  am  afraid  ...  he 
will  send  after  me  too.  ..." 

The  king  of  Israel  needs  the  priests  of  Yahweh. 
Ah!  it  was  clear  now. 

"Abiathar,"  said  David,  "stay  with  me.  Don't 
be  afraid.  He  who  seeks  your  life  seeks  mine; 
but  with  me  you  will  be  safe." 


IN  THE  WILDERNESS  111 

Chapter  V 

When  the  summer  came  on,  David,  after  consult- 
ing Gad  and  Joab,  moved  back  to  Adullam.  The 
caves  were  an  agreeable  shelter  from  the  heat  of  the 
sun,  and  the  spring  solved  the  constantly  recurring 
difficulty  of  providing  water  for  a  large  troop  of 
men.  Moreover,  David  had  an  idea  that  the  Philis- 
tines would  be  making  incursions  into  the  Israelite 
country,  and  Adullam  seemed  a  good  strategic  posi- 
tion for  watching  them  and,  if  occasion  should  war- 
rant, harrying  the  invaders  on  his  own  account. 

This  occasion  seemed,  however,  unlikely  to  arise. 
David's  men  were  uneasy  at  the  idea  of  an  attack 
from  Saul,  and  were  more  in  the  mood  for  defen- 
sive warfare  or  even  for  flight  and  hiding  than  for 
being  in  any  way  aggressive;  and  the  reputation  of 
the  Philistine  army  did  not  invite  attack  on  it. 

One  of  the  first  things  David  had  done  on  taking 
to  the  wilderness  was  to  organize  a  body  of  scouts 
to  keep  him  fully  informed  of  what  was  going  on  in 
the  countryside.  These  scouts  were  some  of  the 
most  daring  and  most  intelligent  of  his  men;  they 
went  everywhere  and  knew  to  some  extent  how  to 
deduce  cause  from  effect.  They  even  penetrated  as 
far  as  Benjamin,  and  David  knew  pretty  well  what 


112        DAVID  THE  SON  OF  JESSE 

Saul  was  doing  and  could  guess  at  what  he  was 
intending.  For  some  time  past  the  scouts  of  the 
nearer  neighborhood  had  been  bringing  him  news 
of  the  Philistines — of  their  assembling  troops  of 
men,  of  their  descents  on  the  corn-fields  and  thresh- 
ing floors  of  Keilah,  and  of  their  skirmishes  with 
the  men  of  Keilah  over  the  plunder.  David  got 
more  and  more  restless,  and  at  last  could  not  refrain 
from  broaching  the  matter  to  some  of  his  captains. 

"Listen  to  this,  Benaiah  and  Ahimelech,"  he  said 
one  morning:  "Asahel  and  Ahimelech's  brother 
Uriah  got  nearly  as  far  as  Keilah  last  night  and 
they  tell  me  there  has  been  another  Philistine  raid 
on  them." 

"The  uncircumcised  thieves!"  exclaimed  Ben- 
aiah, fiercely. 

Ahimelech  shook  his  head  and  said  nothing. 
Joab  had  come  up  while  David  was  speaking  and 
he  joined  in. 

"Without  having  been  as  far  as  the  valiant  Asahel 
and  Uriah,  I  can  tell  you  the  Philistines  will  go  on 
raiding  Keilah  till  the  end  of  the  summer  or  till 
there  is  nothing  left  to  raid — ^what  is  there  to  stop 
them?" 

"What  indeed? — unless  we  were  to  do  so." 

Joab  snorted  and  Benaiah  stared. 

"We,  David?     Why,  we  're  afraid  of  an  attack 


IN  THE  WILDERNESS  113 

from    Saul — how   could    we   possibly    attack   the 
Philistines?" 

"You  won't  get  many  of  the  men  to  think  of  such 
a  thing,"  said  Ahimelech,  gloomily.  "I  should  n't 
dream  of  it  myself — it 's  a  mad  absurdity."  David 
sighed.  He  saw  that  in  this  mood  such  a  venture 
would  be  an  absurdity,  and  yet  his  heart  yearned  for 
it  and  he  tried  desperately  to  devise  some  means  of 
spurring  them  to  enthusiasm  in  the  apparently  im- 
possible task.  All  day  he  walked  about  in  a  state 
of  gloomy  abstraction  and  saw  no  way  out  of  his 
difficulty.  He  began  to  wish  there  was  some  one  he 
could  consult — but  who  was  there?  Joab  would 
be  sure  to  disagree  with  anything  he  suggested. 
Benaiah  was  a  good  fighter,  but  always  wrong  in 
his  ideas;  Ahimelech  the  Hittite  had  no  particular 
feeling  for  the  Israelites ;  Asahel  was  too  young  and 
enthusiastic.  But  who  was  there  he  had  ever  been 
able  to  consult?  Who  had  ever  given  him  advice 
that  had  been  of  service  to  him?  Not  the  fickle 
Saul — ^not  the  love-blinded  Jonathan.  Then  there 
flashed  into  his  mind — Samuel!  Ah!  that  was  a 
different  matter  altogether!  He  had  not  always 
understood  Samuel's  advice,  but  he  had  always  felt 
in  his  heart  that  when  he  did  not  it  was  because 
it  sprang  from  a  deeper  source  than  he  had  knowl- 
edge of,  and  that  the  nearer  he  got  to  the  hidden 


114        DAVID  THE  SON  OF  JESSE 

truth  of  facts  the  clearer  the  meaning  would  become. 
His  thoughts  turned  back  to  the  last  message  he 
had  received.  The  king  of  Israel  needs  the  priests 
of  Yahweh.  .  .  .  Was  there  not  something  there 
that  would  help  him?  .  .  .  That  was  not  all  the 
message.  .  .  .  The  king  of  Israel  needs  the  priests 
of  Yahweh  to  interpret  the  wishes  of  the  God  of 
Israel.  .  .  .  Suddenly  it  was  clear.  How  could 
he  have  been  such  a  fool  as  not  to  see  it  before  ?  He 
was  as  stupid  as  Benaiah,  as  great  a  heathen  as 
Ahimelech.  Yahweh  was  the  solution  of  the  puzzle, 
and  he  held  Yahweh's  interpreters,  Abiathar  and 
the  sacred  ephod,  in  the  hollow  of  his  hand. 

It  was  not  long  before  he  found  Abiathar  and 
explained  the  situation  to  him. 

"You  see,  Abiathar,  the  men  are  afraid  to  attack 
the  Philistines;  but  if  they  knew  it  was  the  will  of 
Yahweh  that  would  be  another  matter.  You  must 
throw  the  sacred  lot  in  front  of  them  and  inquire  of 
Yahweh  whether  we  are  to  go  or  not — I  am  sure 
we  ought  to,  but  they  must  realize  that  the  Lord 
wishes  it  before  they  will  consent.  Do  you  under- 
stand?" 

Abiathar  understood  perfectly. 

The  whole  business  went  off  successfully,  accord- 
ing to  program.  The  men  were  assembled  and 
David   explained   why   they   were   consulting   the 


IN  THE  WILDERNESS  115 

Lord;  there  was  a  certain  amount  of  muttering,  but 
when  Yahweh  declared  emphatically,  in  answer  to 
two  leading  questions,  that  they  were  to  attack  the 
Philistines  and  that  he  would  deliver  them  into 
David's  hand,  they  no  longer  disputed  their  leader's 
decision.  David  was  in  the  highest  spirits ;  he  had 
got  his  way,  he  was  going  into  battle,  and  above 
all  he  had  acquired  a  new  power — that  of  getting 
Yahweh  to  back  up  his  wishes.  It  opened  up  a 
limitless  vista  of  possibilities,  and  he  rushed  upon 
the  enemy  with  such  an  irresistible  tempest  of 
enthusiasm  that  he  drove  them  before  him  like 
frightened  chickens.  Keilah  was  relieved,  and  he 
took  his  followers  into  it,  partly  to  remind  the 
Philistines  not  to  attack  it  again,  partly  to  reward 
his  men  and  rest  them  from  the  strenuous  life  of 
foraging  in  the  open  country. 

The  rest  was  not  for  long.  He  soon  heard  from 
his  scouts  that  Saul  was  preparing  an  army,  which, 
it  was  widely  reported,  was  meant  to  trap  him  in 
Keilah.  Reluctant  to  incur  the  odium  of  a  personal 
decision  to  return  to  the  hardships  of  the  desert, 
David  again  called  in  the  services  of  Abiathar,  and 
the  oracle  declared  that  Saul  was  marching  against 
them  and  that  the  men  of  Keilah  would  give  them 
up  to  him  when  he  came.  There  was  nothing  for 
it  but  to  escape  from  the  walled  town  while  there 


116        DAVID  THE  SON  "OF  JESSE 

was  yet  time,  and  David  led  his  grumbling  but 
unpd-otesting  followers  into  the  wilderness  of  Maon. 


Chapter  VI 

David  was  more  than  two  years  in  Maon.  His 
troops  grew,  till  he  had  as  many  as  six  hundred 
fighting  men,  many  of  these  with  wives  and  children. 
As  the  time  passed  he  found  himself  more  and 
more  able  to  control  them,  and  he  took  advantage 
of  this  to  organize  them  into  groups  under  definite 
officers,  and  to  insist  on  a  certain  rigidity  of  disci- 
pline. For  instance,  the  matter  of  supply  he  kept 
entirely  in  his  own  hands.  He  tolerated  no  plun- 
dering of  the  neighbors  either  from  his  own  men 
or  any  stray  brigands,  but  at  stated  times  he  him- 
self sent  a  formal  request  for  a  supply  of  food.  By 
dint  of  careful  arrangement,  strict  economy  and 
occasional  raids  on  the  Philistines,  supplemented 
by  continual  hunting  expeditions,  they  managed  to 
get  along;  but  at  times  none  escaped  hunger,  and 
if  any  of  their  sources  of  supply  had  been  cut  off 
many  of  them  would  have  starved. 

In  the  first  year  of  his  stay  in  Maon  David  had 
a  terrible  blow.     Elihu  came  over  to  visit  him  and 


IN  THE  WILDERNESS  117 

told  him  that  Samuel  was  dead.  Though  the 
Prophet  was  too  old  for  this  to  be  surprising,  David 
somehow  felt  the  news  was  unexpected.  Samuel 
had  seemed  to  his  imagination  eternal  and  unchang- 
ing— he  could  no  more  think  of  him  as  young  than 
he  could  think  of  him  as  dead.  He  knew,  more- 
over, that  the  loss  would  be  a  serious  one  to  him, 
and  that  from  henceforward  he  would  have  to  de- 
pend on  himself  alone — excepting,  of  course,  for 
the  oracle  of  the  Lord. 

One  morning,  about  a  year  after  Samuel's  death, 
David  sent  for  Abishai,  Asahel,  Uriah  the  Hittite, 
and  seven  other  young  men,  and  gave  them  a 
commission. 

"Abishai,  could  you  take  command  of  the  party? 
I  want  you  to  go  up  to  Carmel,  to  the  house  of 
Nabal,  the  rich  farmer — I  hear  he  is  holding  the 
feast  of  the  sheep  shearing — and  greet  him  from 
me.  Remind  him  that  his  shepherds  have  been 
here  in  Maon  all  the  grazing  time,  and  that  we  have 
done  them  no  harm  and  not  allowed  any  others  to 
harm  them ;  and  ask  him  to  let  us  have  what  he  can 
spare." 

"Right,"  said  Abishai.  "What  ought  it  to  be? 
Five  sheep  and  a  hundred  loaves?  Is  that  about 
it?" 

"Yes,  I  should  think  so,"  said  David.     "I  think 


118        DAVID  THE  SON  OF  JESSE    ' 

he  might  throw  in  some  parched  corn  and  some 
fruit,  but  don't  quarrel  about  that." 

"The  old  scoundrel!"  burst  out  Asahel.  "He 
could  afford  twice  as  much  if  he  chose,  but  you  see 
if  he  does  n't  grudge  us  every  grain  and  every  raisin 
he  lets  us  have.  Don't  argue  with  him,  Abishai — 
just  take  what  you  want  if  he  does  n't  give  it 
peaceably." 

"Abishai,"  said  David,  sternly,  "you  are  to  do 
my  message  exactly  and  politely.  If  there  is  any 
trouble  about  Nabal's  gifts,  come  straight  back  to 
me  and  report — if  any  of  you  ten  strikes  a  blow 
or  speaks  a  rude  word,  you  '11  hear  of  it  from  me. 
Do  you  understand?" 

Carmel  lay  about  a  mile  north  of  Maon,  but  no 
one  expected  the  young  men  back  before  night,  for 
it  would  take  a  little  while  to  prepare  the  gifts,  and 
they  were  sure  to  be  invited  to  join  the  feast. 
David's  camp,  therefore,  was  all  in  a  fluster  when 
an  hour  after  starting  out  Abishai  and  his  com- 
panions reappeared,  carrying  no  gifts,  very  angry, 
and  shouting  for  David.  David  came  forward 
quickly  and  asked  what  had  happened. 

"David,"  said  Abishai,  "by  the  life  of  Yahweh 
I  spoke  what  you  told  me,  and  we  got  nothing  but 
insults  for  our  pains — he  will  give  us  nothing." 

"Nothing?"    David  frowned  and  looked  down. 


IN  THE  WILDERNESS  119 

Then,  raising  his  eyes:  "You  did  not  provoke  him?" 
"Not  he ! "  cried  the  impetuous  Asahel.  "  'David 
greets  you,'  says  he:  'Who  's  David?'  says  the  old 
ruffian,  'and  who  are  you?  runaway  slaves?'  'Who- 
ever we  are,'  says  Abishai,  'we  've  been  keeping 
your  sheep  from  thieves  and  never  touched  one 
ourselves — ask  your  young  men  if  it 's  not  so — and 
all  we  ask  is  what  you  can  spare  from  the  feast.' 
'Pooh,'  cried  the  old  man,  quite  red  with  anger. 
'Do  you  think  I  'm  going  to  give  the  bread  and  meat 
and  wine  I  prepared  to  feast  the  sheep  shearers  with 
to  a  lot  of  vagabonds  from  I  don't  know  where?'  " 
"Yes,"  interrupted  Abishai,  "and  I  saw  the  others 
were  getting  angry,  so  I  said  no  more  and  came 
straight  back  to  you." 

"Asahel,"  said  David,  shortly,  "call  Joab." 
Joab  was  not  far  off  and  was  soon  summoned. 
David  looked  up;  his  eyes  were  wide  and  his  lips 
thin,  and  Joab  noticed  that  his  hand  was  shaking. 
"Listen  to  me,  Joab,"  he  said.     "This  man  Nabal 
has  insulted  me  and  refused  me  anything  in  my 
necessity,  though  I  protected  his  flocks  all  the  time 
they  were  in  Maon.     He  has  returned  me  evil  for 
good.     Now,  may  Yahweh  do  so  to  me  and  more 
also  if  by  to-morrow  I  leave  alive  out  of  his  house- 
hold one  man-child." 
Joab  grunted. 


120        DAVID  THE  SON  OF  JESSE 

"You're  right  this  time,  David,"  he  said;  "if 
you  let  this  fellow  off  lightly  you  'd  never  get  as 
much  as  a  lamb  from  any  one  else  in  these  parts 
again.  .  .  .  When  will  you  start,  and  how  many 
men  will  you  take?" 

"A  hundred  and  fifty,"  said  David  grimly; 
"we  '11  start  two  hours  after  sunset." 

"When  it  '11  be  quite  dark  and  Nabal's  men  will 
be  drunk,"  whispered  Asahel  to  Uriah.  "Well! 
we  shall  see  something  to-night." 

There  was  no  moon  when  they  started,  and  David 
ordered  absolute  silence.  He  was  going  to  make 
sure,  so  far  as  it  lay  in  his  power,  that  his  threat 
was  executed  to  the  letter.  At  first  they  had  to 
go  up  for  a  few  minutes,  then  down  for  half  a  mile 
and  again  up  to  Nabal's  house.  Everything  was 
in  darkness  till  they  reached  the  summit,  when 
Asahel  rushed  back  to  tell  David  they  thought  they 
saw  a  light  moving  among  the  trees  on  the  opposite 
slope.  David  at  once  came  to  the  front  of  the  troop 
and  they  crept  down  the  hill.  As  they  were  reach- 
ing the  bottom  there  came  down  toward  them  a  man 
carrying  a  torch,  and  behind  him  another  leading 
two  heavily  laden  asses,  and  behind  him  a  veiled 
figure  also  on  an  ass.  David  sprang  quickly  past 
the  torchbearer,  who  was  blinded  by  his  own  light. 


IN  THE  WILDERNESS  121 

and  catching  hold  of  one  of  the  asses  called  out 
sharply  and  imperiously: 

"Who  are  you?     What 's  all  this?" 

The  startled  man  gave  a  yell  and  dropped  the 
bridle.  Before  David  could  speak  again  the  veiled 
figure  dismouted,  ran  toward  him,  and  fell  on  the 
ground  before  him.  He  felt  a  gentle  pull  to  his 
coat  as  it  was  grasped  by  the  suppliant  hands;  he 
felt  warm,  soft  lips  pressed  on  his  naked  feet. 

"A  woman!"  he  thought,  and  instantly  turned 
to  the  man  with  the  torch.  "Now  fellow,"  he  cried 
roughly,  "don't  try  running  away — there  are  two 
hundred  men  over  there  all  ready  to  cut  you  down 
if  you  move  a  yard  from  here." 

The  frightened  man  moved  nearer  to  David, 
who  picked  up  the  kneeling  woman  and  gently,  but 
decidedly,  untwisted  her  veil  and  looked  closely  at 
her.  The  red  flickering  light  showed  him  a  woman 
of  about  twenty-four;  it  flung  black  shadows  into 
the  hollows  of  her  deep-set  eyes,  into  the  cup  of  her 
firm  chin,  and  along  the  curve  below  the  delicate 
line  of  her  cheek  bone.  The  light  moved,  and  her 
black  eyes  seemed  to  shine  with  a  gleam  of  their 
own  that  was  not  a  mere  reflection  of  the  torch. 
David  had  been  about  to  speak  reassuringly  to  her, 
but  one  glance  was  enough  to  tell  him  that  she  was 


122        DAVID  THE  SON  OF  JESSE 

as  self-possessed  as  himself;  before  he  had  time  to 
frame  a  question  she  spoke: 

"I  am  Abigail,  the  wife  of  Nabal — a  fool  by 
name  and  a  fool  by  nature.  I  beg  of  you,  my  lord, 
to  let  me  speak  and  to  listen  to  my  words." 

"Well,"  said  David,  in  an  expressionless  voice, 
his  eyes  fixed  immovably  upon  her  face. 

"The  fault  is  ours,"  she  went  on  quickly.  "Yet, 
my  lord,  pray  do  not  consider  this  worthless  man 
and  his  folly.  /  did  not  see  the  young  men  you 
sent  up;  had  I  done  so  a  very  different  answer 
would  have  been  sent;  and  see,  my  lord,  when  I 
heard  what  had  happened,  I  made  haste  to  bring 
some  small  offerings  to  turn  away  your  righteous 
wrath." 

She  made  a  gesture  with  her  hand,  and  David 
saw  that  behind  her  in  the  shadows  were  two  other 
men,  evidently  heavily  laden.  He  could  not  help 
smiling.  In  a  moment  Abigail  was  again  on  her 
knees,  holding  his  dress  and  gazing  up  at  him  with 
flashing  eyes. 

"As  Yahweh  lives,"  she  cried,  "and  as  he  has 
withheld  you  from  shedding  blood  and  from  seeking 
vengeance  for  yourself,  may  your  enemies  and  those 
that  seek  to  harm  you  be  undone  by  their  own  folly, 
like  Nabal..  And  if  any  man  pursues  you  and  seeks 
your  life,  may  it  be  bound  in  the  bundle  of  the  living 


I 


IN  THE  WILDERNESS  123 

under  the  protection  of  Yahweh  your  God.  And 
surely,  when  Yahweh  has  done  you  all  the  good  he 
intends,  and  you  are  lord  of  us  all,  then  you  will 
have  no  grief  for  having  shed  blood  or  sought  ven- 
geance for  yourself;  and  in  that  day  remember  your 
handmaid." 

Her  voice  quivered  and  the  last  words  were  almost 
lost  by  the  sudden  inclination  of  her  head;  and 
again  David  felt  her  lips  pressed  on  his  feet. 
He  lifted  her  up,  and  held  her  a  little  while, 
looking  at  her,  before  he  answered.  Then  he 
stepped  back  a  pace,  and  formally  saluted  her, 
pressing  his  hands  against  his  lips,  his  forehead 
and  his  breast. 

"Blessing  on  Yahweh,  God  of  Israel,"  he  said 
gravely,  "for  sending  you  to  meet  me;  and  blessing 
on  your  wisdom  and  blessing  on  yourself  for  keeping 
me  from  shedding  blood.  For  it  is  true  enough 
that,  unless  you  had  come  down,  by  to-morrow  I 
should  not  have  left  alive  one  man-child  in  Nabal's 
household." 

Abigail  drew  a  deep  breath;  then  pointing  to  the 
servants : 

"Will  your  young  men  take  over  the  stuft?"  she 
asked. 

"Abishai!"  called  David,  "take  the  food  from 
these  men,  and  get  back  to  the  camp,  all  of  you. 


124        DAVID  THE  SON  OF  JESSE 

Go  in  peace,"  he  added  to  Abigail,  "for  I  have 
granted  your  request." 

"What 's  the  matter  with  David,  that  he  keeps 
stumbling  so?"  whispered  one  of  the  men  to  another 
on  the  way  back.  It  was  lucky  the  way  was  not 
more  precipitous  than  it  was,  for  David  hardly  knew 
what  he  was  doing.  Abigail's  face  shone  out  of  the 
darkness  in  front  of  him  like  an  apparition;  and 
then  he  would  cry  to  himself: 

"But  what 's  her  face?  It 's  her  judgment,  her 
decision,  her  courage — her  foresight  .  .  .  what  a 
woman! "  and  then  a  moment  later: 

"But  what 's  all  that?  It 's  her  eyes,  her  neck, 
her  skin — what  a  woman!"  and  that  she  should 
be  the  wife  of  such  an  old  curmudgeon  as  Nabal 
seemed  a  profanity,  and  that  he  himself  should 
have  promised  not  to  lay  a  finger  on  him  an  act  of 
lunacy. 

During  the  next  few  days  his  dreams  became 
wild  schemes  to  get  hold  of  her  without  breaking 
his  word;  but  this  involved  such  obvious  impos- 
sibilities that  he  was  beginning  to  think  that  after 
all  he  would  have  to  be  forsworn,  when  Asahel 
brought  him  news  that  seemed  a  miracle  from 
heaven. 

"What  do  you  think,  David?"  said  the  young 
man;  "I  was  up  in  Carmel  this  morning  and  heard 


IN  THE  WILDERNESS  125 

such  a  joke.  It  seems  that  the  night  we  were  going 
up  to  settle  accounts  with  Nabal,  he  and  all  his 
men  were  as  drunk  as  lords  and  would  never  have 
known  we  had  come  till  they  felt  our  swords  in 
their  throats.  Well,  the  next  morning,  when  Nabal 
woke  up,  his  wife  told  him  how  she  'd  met  us 
coming  up  to  do  the  deed — and  whether  it  was  the 
fright  or  realizing  his  own  folly  I  don't  know,  but 
anyway  the  old  ruffian  had  a  sort  of  fit  and  died 
yesterday!" 

"Died!"  shouted  David.  "Do  you  mean  to  say 
he  's  dead?"  and  before  the  astonished  Asahel  had 
recovered  he  had  rushed  off  and  was  deep  in  a  secret 
colloquy  with  Abishai.  His  vehement  impatience 
would  not  brook  a  moment's  delay,  and  Abishai  and 
half  a  dozen  others  were  immediately  despatched 
along  the  road  to  Carmel.  How  he  endured  the 
hours  of  waiting  in  his  tent — for  he  could  not  trust 
himself  outside  it — he  never  knew;  but  at  last  the 
door  was  lifted  and  she  came  in. 

"Ah,  Abigail,"  he  cried.  "Ah,  my  wife!"  and 
held  out  his  arms. 

Again  she  slipped  to  the  ground  and  clasped  his 
knees. 

"Behold,  a  servant  to  wash  the  feet  of  your 
servants,"  she  said,  and  David  looked  down  at  her 
and  smiled. 


126        DAVID  THE  SON  OF  JESSE 

Chapter  VII 

David  was  gradually  becoming  known  to  many 
of  the  chiefs  living  south  and  southeast  of  Judah, 
and  with  a  number  of  them  he  had  entered  into 
friendly  relations.  He  was  still  in  dread  of  an 
attack  from  Saul,  who  from  time  to  time  sent  out 
expeditions  against  him,  obliging  him  to  shift  his 
camping  ground,  and  he  felt  that  the  day  would 
come  when  the  friendship  of  the  clans  living  between 
Judah  and  Edom  would  stand  him  in  good  stead. 
He  was  the  more  delighted  when  messengers  ar- 
rived from  one  of  the  chief  men  of  Jezreel,  a  town 
not  far  from  Maon,  offering  him  his  daughter 
Ahinoam  in  marriage.  He  gladly  consented,  and 
Ahinoam  was  installed  in  the  tent  occupied  by 
Abigail,  who  received  her  amiably,  but  resigned 
none  of  her  influence. 

The  desirability  of  finding  some  other  camping 
ground  was  becoming  obvious  to  every  one,  and  at 
last  they  moved  northward  to  the  wilderness  of 
Ziph,  a  wide,  desert  region  stretching  northeast 
from  the  town  of  Ziph  down  as  far  as  the  Dead 
Sea.  The  disadvantage  of  this  move  was  that  they 
came  more  within  Saul's  cognizance,  and  sure 
enough  it  was  not  long  before  they  had  news  that 


IN  THE  WILDERNESS  127 

he  was  coming  against  them.  David,  however, 
hoped  that  he  would  not  be  able  to  find  their  exact 
hiding  place,  and  trusted  to  lying  quiet  where  they 
were  instead  of  trying  to  escape  by  outmarching 
the  enemy. 

One  evening  a  scout  came  up  to  David  with 
something  for  his  private  ear.  He  had  gone  to  sleep 
incautiously  and  been  caught  by  a  man  of  Saul's 
army.  This  man,  instead  of  killing  him  or  drag- 
ging him  off  a  prisoner,  or  even  questioning  him  as 
to  their  hiding  place,  had  given  him  a  token  to  carry 
to  David,  with  the  words,  "To-night,  in  the  wood, 
by  the  mulberry  grove." 

David  at  once  recognized  the  token  as  a  bracelet 
belonging  to  Jonathan,  and  determined  to  keep  the 
tryst.  It  was  nearly  six  years  since  they  had  met; 
how  Jonathan  would  be  longing  to  see  him!  and 
how  pleasant  it  would  be  to  see  Jonathan !  As  the 
time  for  the  meeting  approached,  however,  his 
satisfaction  in  the  idea  grew  less  keen.  Though 
from  many  points  of  view  he  had  not  done  so  badly 
during  the  last  six  years — and,  indeed,  to  any  one 
who  knew  the  difficulties  he  had  had  to  contend 
with,  his  success  might  seem  marvelous — yet  the 
fact  remained  that  he  was  still  an  outlaw  and  a 
fugitive,  and  that  Jonathan  was  still  the  king's 
son.     Why  should  he  present  himself  before  Jona- 


128        DAVID  THE  SON  OF  JESSE 

than  to  enable  him  to  gloat  over  the  contrast  in 
their  positions?  And  though  he  knew  perfectly 
well  that  in  reality  this  was  the  last  thing  the  mag- 
nanimous Jonathan  could  possibly  do,  the  mere 
imagination  caused  him  to  feel  sulky,  and  push  out 
his  lower  lip.     Nevertheless,  he  kept  the  tryst. 

Jonathan  had  not  changed  in  the  least.  He 
flung  his  arms  round  David  and  kissed  him  with 
all  the  old  passion,  and  then  pulled  him  down  on 
the  ground  and  asked  for  his  story.  David's  sulks 
were  not  of  a  nature  to  withstand  the  melting  power 
of  Jonathan's  affection;  he  smiled,  put  his  arm  in 
his,  and  began  the  tale  of  his  adventures.  When  he 
had  finished  and  answered  all  Jonathan's  eager 
questions  there  was  a  pause.  At  last  Jonathan 
looked  down  and  said  rather  nervously: 

"Michal  is  married,  David." 

David  turned  a  dark  red  and  clenched  his  fist. 
He  hardly  ever  thought  of  her  now,  but  this  news 
that  she  belonged  to  another  man  outraged  him. 

"Married?     To  whom?" 

"To  Paltiel,  the  son  of  Laish — ^he  comes  from 
Gallim  of  Benjamin." 

David  said  no  more ;  but  he  fixed  the  name  in  his 
mind,  with  a  furious,  vague  idea  of  revenge  and 
destruction.  Jonathan  caressed  him  lightly,  and 
said  in  his  gentlest  voice: 


IN  THE  WILDERNESS  129 

'Toor  David — I  do  wish  you  had  her.  If  only 
things  would  settle  down  and  we  two  could  be 
friends  again  as  we  used  to  be!" 

"That 's  impossible.  You  see  yourself  your 
father  will  never  give  up  hunting  me." 

Jonathan  sighed  and  made  no  answer,  looking 
out  with  troubled  eyes  at  the  increasing  light  which 
warned  them  of  sunrise.  David  rose  and  pulled 
up  his  coat. 

"I  must  go  back  to  the  camp  now,  Jonathan. 
And  some  day  Saul  will  catch  me  and  that  will 
be  the  end  of  it  all." 

"No,  no,  David,"  cried  Jonathan,  jumping  up 
and  seizing  his  arms.  "You  know  that  won't 
happen!  My  father  will  never  catch  you;  but  a 
day  will  come  when  you  will  be  king  of  Israel  and 
I  shall  be  next  to  you — and  then  all  will  be  well 
and  we  shall  be  happy  again." 

They  looked  at  each  other  and  smiled — Jonathan 
with  the  exaltation  of  love  and  devotion,  David 
with  the  triumphant  vision  of  success;  then,  with 
another  long  embrace,  they  parted. 

When  David  got  back  he  found  Asahel  looking 
for  him  in  great  agitation.  He  had  been  into  the 
town  of  Ziph  and  there  learnt  that  the  townsmen 
had  discovered  the  whereabouts  of  the  camp,  and 
either  for  a  gift  of  money  or  a  hope  of  future  favors 


130        DAVID  THE  SON  OF  JESSE 

had  betrayed  their  knowledge  to  Saul.  There  was 
no  time  to  be  lost;  the  camp  was  struck,  and  their 
flight  was  directed  toward  Maon.  But  Saul  was 
hot  upon  their  track.  Fast  as  David  pushed  on,  he 
was  encumbered  by  the  women  and  children  that 
necessarily  formed  part  of  his  company,  while  Saul's 
army  consisted  of  fighting  men  only.  Moreover, 
Saul's  numbers  were  twice  as  great  as  his  own ;  and 
David  soon  became  aware  from  the  information  of 
his  scouts  that  strong  bodies  of  men  were  advancing 
rapidly  on  both  his  flanks,  and  that  it  would  not 
be  long  before  he  would  be  surrounded.  He  saw 
no  way  of  dealing  with  the  danger.  As  he  walked 
on  at  the  head  of  the  column  his  mind  worked 
unceasingly  with  the  problem,  but  no  solution  pre- 
sented itself .  Was  this,  then,  the  end?  He  glanced 
back  at  the  ass  on  which  Ahinoam  was  sitting,  with 
Abigail  walking  beside  her.  He  ground  his  teeth 
and  turned  again  to  the  situation;  there  must  be 
some  way  out.  Suddenly  Joab  touched  his  arm  and 
pointed  to  the  hill  on  the  left. 

"They  're  going  north  again,"  he  said. 

David  stopped  and  looked;  then  without  a  word 
he  turned  toward  the  hill  on  the  right;  there,  too, 
the  figures  that  had  been  hurrying  to  get  in  front 
of  him  were  streaming  away  in  the  opposite  direc- 
tion.    It  was  a  rout  before  a  battle!     What  had 


IN  THE  WILDERNESS  131 

happened?  David  was  too  stunned  to  comprehend 
the  meaning  of  what  he  saw;  he  stood  still  and  the 
whole  party  behind  him  stopped  too,  waiting  for 
instructions.  Presently  a  little  body  of  scouts  ran 
up,  waving  their  arms  and  shouting: 

"It's  all  right,  David,  it's  all  right!  Saul's 
marching  back  to  Benjamin  as  fast  as  he  can  go, 
for  the  Philistines  have  made  a  raid  in  force  there 
and  are  close  under  the  walls  of  Gibeah ! " 

The  cloud  lifted  from  David's  face  and  his  blue 
eyes  smiled  like  a  girl's. 

"Azazel  be  their  speed!"  he  shouted.  "Turn 
north  again!     We'll  camp  in  Ziph  to-night!" 


Chapter  VIII 

While  Saul  was  occupied  with  the  Philistines 
David  was  safe.  But  the  respite  seemed  short  to 
the  harried  outlaws;  all  too  soon  the  news  arrived 
that  the  king  and  his  army  were  on  their  track 
once  more.  David  was  beginning  to  realize  that 
he  could  not  go  on  much  longer  in  a  state  of  per- 
petual danger.  It  was  not  so  much  the  continuous 
warfare  that  was  telling  on  his  men's  health  and 
temper,  but  the  fact  that  there  were  no  intervals  in 


132        DAVID  THE  SON  OF  JESSE 

which  they  were  safe  from  attack — the  state  of 
unrelieved  alarm  in  which  they  lived  was  un- 
doubtedly trying  their  nerves.  Various  different 
schemes  suggested  themselves  to  David,  but  at  pres- 
ent he  felt  unable  to  decide  on  any  of  them. 

At  last  he  got  news  of  Saul's  close  approach. 
It  reached  him  at  the  oasis  of  En-gedi  on  the  shores 
of  the  Dead  Sea,  and  he  immediately,  with  the 
greatest  secrecy,  moved  his  camp  up  toward  Ziph. 
As  he  had  hoped,  Saul  had  heard  he  was  at  En-gedi 
and  moved  down  as  David  moved  up,  so  that  when 
the  two  camps  were  pitched  Saul's  was  below 
David's,  and  cut  off  by  it  from  Benjamin.  Never- 
theless the  numerical  difference  between  the  armies 
was  so  great  that  the  strategical  advantage  in  no  way 
compensated  for  it,  and  David's  men  waited  in 
great  anxiety  to  learn  what  their  leader  intended  to 
do. 

That  night  David  called  into  his  tent  Abishai 
and  Ahimelech  the  Hittite. 

"I  want  a  companion  to  go  with  me  to-night," 
he  said.  "I  am  going  down  to  have  a  look  at  Saul's 
camp,  and  I  want  some  one  I  can  trust  to  go  with 
me." 

Ahimelech  bit  his  thumb.  To  him  the  expedi- 
tion looked  like  certain  death ;  he  wondered  whether 
the  possible  advantages  were  worth  the  risk.  .  .  . 


IN  THE  WILDERNESS  133 

Abishai  did  not  hesitate.  He  was  fond  of  David 
in  an  undemonstrative  way,  he  had  a  lot  of  confi- 
dence in  him,  and  did  not  bother  himself  much  as 
to  the  consequences  of  his  actions. 

"When  do  you  want  to  start?"  he  asked. 

David  smiled,  pleased  at  his  readiness. 

"We'll  start  early,"  he  said;  "we  must  be  there 
before  the  moon  rises,  and  I  fancy  it 's  a  good  dis- 
tance off." 

Things  turned  out  as  they  had  expected,  and  it 
was  still  quite  dark  when  they  found  the  enemy. 
For  all  his  trust,  Abishai  was  a  little  surprised  when 
David,  slipping  past  a  drowsy  sentinel,  pushed  right 
on  into  the  middle  of  the  encampment,  glancing 
quickly  right  and  left  as  he  went,  obviously  making 
hasty  calculations  as  to  the  size  of  the  army.  But 
he  said  nothing,  and  followed  his  uncle,  going  as 
softly  as  he  could.  Presently  they  reached  the 
middle  of  the  camp  where  the  wagons  were  drawn 
together,  and  beside  one  of  them,  gleaming  in  the 
faint  starlight,  was  stuck  a  spear.  David  seized 
Abishai 's  arm  and  pointed  to  the  man  who  lay 
asleep  beneath  it — it  was  Saul  himself,  and  at  his 
side  was  Abner. 

The  purpose  of  the  expedition  was  now  clear  to 
Abishai.  He  drew  a  deep  breath  and  looked  at 
David.     David  was  standing  motionless,  his  arms 


134        DAVID  THE  SON  OF  JESSE 

hanging  by  his  sides,  gazing  at  the  unconscious 
king.  Was  he,  too,  asleep,  that  he  thus  wasted  the 
precious  moments?  Abisai  took  his  arm,  put  his 
mouth  to  his  ear,  and  whispered: 

"God  has  delivered  your  enemy  into  your  hand. 
Let  me  strike  him  once  with  the  spear — I  shall  not 
need  to  strike  twice." 

As  David  looked  he  felt  in  memory  the  fragrant 
oil  of  consecration  on  his  forehead  and  heard 
Samuel's  voice  saying : 

"David,  son  of  Jesse,  Yahweh  has  anointed  thee 
to  be  king  over  his  inheritance." 

Was  this  the  way?  Was  this  the  time?  He 
slowly  stretched  his  hand  out  to  grasp  the  spear; 
but  suddenly  another  memory  flashed  upon  him, 
and  it  was  again  Samuel's  voice  he  heard: 

"You  are  both  the  anointed  of  Yahweh  .  .  . 
remember  that  every  deed  against  Saul  is  a  deed 
against  yourself.  .  .  ." 

And  as  he  gazed  at  the  sleeping  man  it  seemed 
to  him  that  it  was  indeed  himself  who  lay  there, 
helpless,  at  the  mercy  of  midnight  assassins — re- 
bellious conspirators.  He  shuddered,  and  his  arm 
dropped  to  his  side.  Then  turning  to  the  astounded 
Abishai,  he  whispered  in  his  ear: 

"Do  not  destroy  him;  for  who  can  touch  the 
anointed  of  Yahweh  and  be  guiltless?" 


IN  THE  WILDERNESS  135 

"What  then?"  whispered  Abishai;  for  it  was 
plainly  not  the  time  for  arguing;  and  David 
answered : 

"Take  the  spear  at  his  head  and  I  will  take  the 
water  bottle  from  his  side  and  we  will  go." 

On  the  way  into  the  camp  David  had  noticed 
a  steep  slope  leading  more  directly  but  more  pre- 
cipitously toward  Ziph ;  it  was  up  this  slope  that  he 
and  Abishai  scrambled,  and  after  a  few  minutes  of 
panting  effort  they  were  beyond  reach  of  Saul  and 
his  men.  Once  safe,  David  turned  to  Abishai  and 
laughed. 

"Now  we  '11  have  some  fun,"  he  said,  for  the 
violent  physical  exertion  and  the  sense  of  having 
escaped  from  incredible  danger  almost  miraculously, 
had  brought  one  of  his  sudden  reactions,  and  he 
felt  nothing  but  amused  triumph  and  exhilaration 
in  the  adventure. 

"Abner!"  he  shouted  with  all  the  force  of  his 
lungs.     "Abner!  don't  you  hear?" 

"What 's  that?"  cried  Abner,  startled  out  of  his 
sound  sleep,  and  amazed  to  hear  some  one  yelling  to 
him  in  the  darkness, 

"  'What 's  that?'  "  echoed  David,  with  a  laugh. 
"What  do  you  think  it  is?  O  valiant  Abner,  who 
is  your  equal  in  all  Israel?  Who  keeps  better 
watch  over  the  king  than  you?     Did  not  some  one 


136        DAVID  THE  SON  OF  JESSE 

creep  in  just  now  to  kill  him,  while  you  slept? 
Look  and  see  where  his  spear  is  and  the  water  bottle 
he  keeps  at  his  side! " 

There  was  a  pause.  David  imagined,  though  he 
could  not  see  it,  Abner's  angry,  perplexed  search 
for  the  missing  spear  and  water  bottle  and  laughed 
inwardly  at  the  thought.  Then  some  one  spoke  in 
tones  that  were  not  Abner's — tones  that  were  melan- 
ccholy  and  hesitating: 

"Is  this  your  voice,  my  son  David?" 

In  a  moment  David's  sense  of  amusement 
vanished. 

"It  is  my  voice,  my  lord  the  king,"  he  answered; 
and  was  silent.  Saul  too  was  silent,  and  David 
felt  that  curious  emotional  contagion  that  he  had 
so  often  experienced  in  Saul's  presence, 

"Well,"  he  thought,  "I  '11  make  one  more  try — 
though  I  know  it's  hopeless  .  .  ."  and  spoke  again: 

"What  have  I  done  to  make  you  seek  my  life, 
my  lord?  Am  I  not  your  servant?  What  has 
turned  you  against  me?  If  it  is  Yahweh  who 
makes  you  my  enemy,  let  him  accept  a  sweet-smell- 
ing sacrifice  and  be  appeased.  But  if  it  is  the  slan- 
der of  men,  let  them  be  accursed  for  driving  me  out 
of  the  land  of  Yahweh  to  live  in  strange  lands  and 
worship  strange  gods.  ..." 

He  stopped,   and  presently  the  voice   of   Saul 


IN  THE  WILDERNESS  137 

answered,  drifting  faintly  and  sadly  through  the 
space  between  them : 

"I  have  sinned;  return,  my  son  David;  I  will 
do  you  no  more  harm,  because  my  life  was  precious 
in  your  eyes  to-day ;  I  have  played  the  fool ;  I  have 
done  very  wrong." 

David  sighed.  The  pathetic  wordi:  made  his 
nerves  vibrate,  but  in  its  deepest  core  his  heart  was 
unstirred. 

"Well,"  he  said,  "here  is  the  spear,  my  lord 
king.  Send  one  of  the  young  men  over  for  it.  And 
as  your  life  was  precious  in  my  eyes  to-day  so  may 
my  life  be  precious  in  the  eyes  of  Yahweh,  and  may 
he  deliver  me  out  of  all  my  tribulation." 

And  the  voice  of  Saul  floated  back: 

"Bless  you,  my  son  David;  you  shall  do  mighty 
deeds;  surely  you  shall  conquer." 

Silence.  David  and  Abishai  turned  round  and 
climbed  back  to  their  own  camp. 


PART  III 

WITH  THE  PHILISTINES 

Chapter  I 

INSTEAD  of  being  reassured  by  his  conversation 
with  Saul,  David  was  more  and  more  convinced 
that  the  king  was  implacable  toward  him.  He  was 
confirmed  in  this  view  by  finding  that  in  spite  of  his 
declaration  that  he  would  do  David  no  harm  he 
remained  encamped  with  his  army,  watching,  and 
evidently  ready  to  pounce.  When  this  was  once 
clear,  David  at  last  made  up  his  mind  what  to  do. 
He  turned  again  in  his  thought  to  Samuel's  advice, 
and  remembered  how  the  old  Prophet  had  warned 
him  that  he  would  not  always  find  a  refuge  in  the 
Judean  wilderness,  and  had  counseled  him,  when 
the  time  came,  to  throw  himself  on  the  protection  of 
Achish,  the  lord  of  Gath.  He  smiled  as  he  recalled 
his  horror  at  the  idea,  and  his  certainty  that  the 
Philistines  could  not  forgive  his  exploits  against 
them.     The  David  of  that  day  seemed  indeed  a  cal- 

139 


140        DAVID  THE  SON  OF  JESSE 

low,  inexperienced  youth,  and  the  six  years  that 
separated  them  an  impassable  gulf. 

Certainly  he  had  now  no  doubts  or  hesitations. 
He  did  not  even  think  it  necessary  to  consult 
Yahweh,  for  he  did  not  believe  his  men  would  raise 
any  difficulties.  He  chose  Gad  as  his  envoy,  and 
after  a  long  talk,  in  which  he  coached  him  with 
minuteness  in  the  matter  and  almost  in  the  words  of 
his  message,  sent  him  off  with  a  small  but  picked 
bodyguard  to  Gath.  Then  came  one  of  those 
periods  of  waiting  that  were  so  trying  to  a  man  of 
David's  natural  activity — a  time  of  imagining  every 
possible  disaster,  ranging  from  a  simple  negative 
from  Achish,  to  the  slaughter  of  Gad  and  his  com- 
panions by  the  enraged  Philistines.  At  last,  how- 
ever, in  reality  not  a  day  after  they  were  due,  the 
embassy  returned,  and  it  was  at  once  apparent,  even 
through  the  weariness  of  travel,  that  they  had  been 
successful.  Achish  had  been  most  agreeable,  had 
fallen  in — almost  eagerly — ^with  all  Gad's  sug- 
gestions, and  had  ended  by  extending  an  invitation 
to  David  and  his  followers  to  come  at  once  to  Gath. 

And  so  for  the  last  time  in  the  wilderness  of 
Judea  the  six  hundred  struck  camp.  David  was 
fully  conscious  that  he  was  entering  a  totally  new 
experience,  and  as  usual  his  spirits  rose  with  the 
idea  of  adventure.     While   Joab  and   Ahimelech 


WITH  THE  PHILISTINES  141 

were  grumbling  to  each  other  at  the  thought  of 
"putting  their  heads  into  the  lion's  mouth,"  and 
Abishai  was  stolidly  seeing  to  the  details  of  pre- 
paring a  start,  David — getting  through  as  much 
work  as  all  three  put  together — was  amusing  him- 
self with  Asahel  and  one  or  two  other  of  the  younger 
men,  keeping  them  in  fits  of  laughter,  and  spreading 
his  irresistible  gaiety  through  the  whole  camp  at 
a  moment  which  might  have  filled  them  with  regret 
and  anxiety. 

The  actual  journey  into  Philistia  was  made 
without  hindrance,  and  at  last  David  found  himself 
in  the  outskirts  of  Gath.  He  paused  to  gather  all 
the  stragglers  in,  set  himself  at  the  head  of  the  troop, 
and  prepared  to  make  as  imposing  an  entry  as  he 
could  into  the  enemy's  town.  For  himself,  his  sur- 
prise and  awe  at  what  met  his  eyes  went  beyond 
anything  he  had  anticipated,  for  with  his  journey 
to  Moab  and  his  rovings  over  Israel  and  Judah 
he  considered  himself  a  traveled  man.  It  was 
clear,  however,  after  a  first  glance  at  Gath,  that  he 
was  face  to  face  with  a  totally  different  civilization, 
of  a  splendor  and  extent  he  had  never  dreamt  of. 

It  was  a  walled  city  with  watchtowers  set  at 
intervals  in  the  walls — but  this  was  a  form  of  for- 
tification with  which  David  was  familiar.  What 
surprised  him  was,  first,  the  apparent  size  of  the 


142        DAVID  THE  SON  OF  JESSE 

town,  and  second,  the  fact  that  here  and  there  within 
the  enclosure  were  buildings  high  enough  to  be  seen 
above  the  city  wall.  What  could  they  be?  From 
outside  it  was  impossible  to  tell — they  must  be  seen 
nearer  at  hand. 

Once  inside  the  town,  there  was  another  surprise. 
No  one  seemed  to  take  any  interest  in  them,  or 
indeed  to  pay  them  any  particular  attention.  David 
was  accustomed  to  the  immense  curiosity  of  the 
Palestine  villages  in  which  the  appearance  of  one 
stranger  draws  forth  the  whole  population  to  stare 
and  exclaim.  Here,  six  hundred  men  and  their 
families  passed  through  the  streets  almost  unnoticed. 
It  is  true  the  streets  were  immensely  wide,  and 
packed  full  of  traffic — hundreds  of  men  and  women, 
asses,  camels,  oxen,  astonishing  wagons,  variegated 
costumes,  plumed  headdresses,  embroidered  robes, 
yellow  faces,  and  shaved  heads  formed  a  bewilder- 
ing kaleidoscope,  as  he  tried  to  push  his  way  along. 
And  then  the  buildings!  Could  there  be  so  many 
temples?  For  right  and  left  were  the  tall  edifices 
he  had  seen  from  outside,  magnificent  constructions 
with  wooden  pillars  in  front  and  high  domed  roofs, 
so  splendid  that  surely  only  the  gods  could  inhabit 
them.     But  were  there  so  many  gods? 

However,  it  was  now  time  to  find  Achish,  and 
David  realized,  with  fresh  astonishment,  that  he 


WITH  THE  PHILISTINES  143 

would  not  be  able  to  find  his  dwelling  place  without 
inquiry.  After  looking  round  he  stopped  a  man 
dressed  in  a  way  with  which  he  was  familiar;  he 
was  naked  except  for  a  broad  waistband  and  wore 
one  of  the  plumed  headdresses,  fitted  into  an  em- 
broidered band  encircling  his  temples,  and  fastened 
on  his  head  by  a  chin  strap  which  passed  in  front  of 
his  ears.  This  was  the  costume  of  a  soldier;  and 
by  the  silver  bands  on  his  arm  David  judged  that 
he  was  of  sufficient  rank  to  be  able  to  answer  a  ques- 
tion sensibly. 

"Greeting,  friend,"  he  said.  "Can  you  take  me 
to  the  house  of  Achish?" 

"Achish?"  answered  the  man  with  a  laugh. 
"What  Achish  do  you  want?  Achish  the  potter? 
Achish  the  smith?  Achish  the  corn  merchant? 
Achish  the  son  of  Phicol?  Achish  the  son  of 
Badyra?     Achish.  .  .  ." 

"Stop,  stop!"  exclaimed  David,  laughing  in  his 
turn.  "It  is  none  of  these.  The  Achish  I  want  is 
the  king  of  Gath." 

"The  king  of  Gath?  Oh,  you  mean  the  seren. 
I  suppose  you  are  a  Hebrew.  Yes,  I  can  take  you 
to  him — only  take  care  he  does  n't  make  you  into 
a  stew  for  his  supper!" 

Still  laughing,  the  man  took  the  lead,  and  in  a 
little  while  stopped  in  front  of  the  biggest  of  the 


144        DAVID  THE  SON  OF  JESSE 

domed  temples  David  had  seen.  Outside  of  it  a 
lot  of  soldiers  were  lounging,  and  his  guide  went 
up  to  one  of  them  and  spoke  to  him  in  a  low  voice. 
Immediately  he  hurried  forward  and  saluted  David. 

"Greeting,"  he  said.  "Are  not  you  David,  the 
son  of  Jesse?"  And  on  David's  acquiescing  he 
saluted  him  again. 

"The  seren  is  expecting  you,"  he  said.  "Will 
you  tell  your  men  to  wait  here  a  little  while,  and 
come  in  and  speak  to  him  yourself?" 


Chapter  II 

AcHiSH  was  delighted  by  the  fate  which  sent  him 
David  as  a  client.  In  the  first  place  it  definitely 
deprived  the  Israelites  of  far  the  most  brilliant 
general  they  had  ever  had;  then  it  put  that  general 
at  the  service  of  the  Philistines;  and  finally  it 
provided  an  opportunity  for  making  permanent  one 
of  the  internecine  quarrels  which  had  always  been 
the  bane  of  the  Israelites,  and  the  opportunity  of  the 
Philistines.  When  Achish  considered  the  situation 
he  was  staggered  at  the  incredible  folly  of  Saul  in 
driving  such  a  supporter  into  the  service  of  the 
enemy;   when  he  met  David  himself  and  got  to 


WITH  THE  PHILISTINES  145 

know  him,  he  could  not  comprehend  the  king  of 
Israel's  bad  taste  in  parting  with  such  a  delightful 
companion. 

Everything  was  done  to  attach  David  to  the 
country  he  had  chosen.  His  followers  were  housed 
in  a  special  quarter  of  the  city,  and  he  himself  was 
given  apartments  in  the  seren's  palace.  He  was 
afforded  full  opportunities  for  seeing  all  the  riches 
and  power  of  Philistia;  and  if  this  was  done  with 
any  ulterior  reason  it  was  still  a  favor  which  David 
most  thoroughly  appreciated.  He  visited  each  of 
the  five  Philistine  cities,  and  as  he  went  from  one 
to  another,  realized  fully  the  richness  and  fertility 
of  the  country  that  lay,  as  it  were,  within  hand's 
reach  of  Israel.  On  the  great  road  between  Gaza 
and  Ashdod,  which  was  also  the  great  road  between 
Egypt  and  Assyria,  he  saw  caravans  that  opened 
his  eyes  for  the  first  time  to  the  true  meaning  of 
commerce.  At  Ashkelon  he  saw  the  sea  and  ships — 
not  that  Dead  Sea  of  the  plain,  as  dead  as  the 
desert  in  whose  lap  it  lay — ^but  the  Mediterranean — 
the  "Great  Sea"  in  the  midst  of  the  earth,  the  most 
wonderful  highway  that  could  be  imagined  between 
nations  at  opposite  ends  of  the  world. 

Yet,  in  spite  of  the  friendship  of  Achish,  the 
relief  from  anxiety,  and  the  delight  of  widening 
horizons,  David  was  not  comfortable  in  Gath.     The 


146        DAVID  THE  SON  OF  JESSE 

strange  food  at  the  king's  table — meat  often  cooked 
in  the  animal's  blood,  or  unknown  flesh  whose 
name  he  dared  not  ask — sometimes  gave  him  a 
physical  nausea,  besides  shocking  him  profoundly 
in  his  religious  convictions.  The  worship  of  Dagon 
and  the  wonderful  fish-tailed  woman  to  whom  the 
great  flock  of  doves  was  kept  sacred  was  an  out- 
rage to  him,  and  worse  than  all  he  feared  daily 
more  and  more  that  the  moment  would  come  when 
Achish  would  call  upon  him  to  take  the  field  against 
Saul.  This  he  was  determined  to  avoid;  but  to  do 
so  without  causing  a  breach  with  the  seren  he  must 
forestall  the  order  with  a  scheme  of  his  own. 

He  had  been  in  Gath  many  months  when  at 
last  he  found  an  opportunity  to  bring  forward  his 
suggestion. 

"Well,  David,"  said  Achish  one  day,  "and  how 
do  you  like  living  in  Philistia?  Do  you  find  your 
old  enemies  make  good  friends?" 

"Certainly  you  are  a  good  friend  to  me,  my 
lord,"  answered  David,  "and  to  live  in  Philistia 
after  wandering  in  the  desert  is  like  living  with  the 
gods.  Indeed,  I  don't  know  why  you  are  so  good 
as  to  keep  me  with  you  in  the  royal  city — I  have 
been  thinking  for  some  time  it  would  be  more  suit- 
able /or  me  to  go  to  one  of  the  provincial  towns 
where  I  could  be  of  more  use  to  you." 


WITH  THE  PHILISTINES  147 

"Of  more  use  to  me?     How  do  you  mean?" 

"It  has  been  in  my  mind  that  if  I  were  in  one 
of  the  towns  on  the  southern  border  of  the  country 
I  could  keep  an  eye  on  any  of  the  desert  tribes  who 
might  be  inclined  to  be  disorderly.  And  it  would 
be  a  good  position,  would  n't  it,  for  attacking  the 
Southern  tribes  of  the  Hebrews — Judah,  Jerahmeel 
Simeon?  .  .  ." 

Achish  brightened  up;  here  was  David  volun- 
teering to  do  what  he  himself  had  been  too  tactful 
to  suggest  all  this  time — it  was  an  opportunity  of 
embroiling  him  further  with  the  rest  of  Israel  which 
was  obviously  to  be  snatched  at. 

"The  very  thing — though  I  shall  miss  you  sadly, 
David.  But  how  would  this  arrangement  do? 
You  shall  have  the  town  of  Ziklag  for  your  own, 
and  the  cultivated  lands  that  belong  to  it;  and  in 
return  you  shall  give  me  half  the  booty  you  take  on 
any  raid.  How  would  that  suit  you?  Oh,  and  I 
shall  make  one  other  stipulation — you  must  come 
yourself  with  the  plunder,  so  that  I  may  still  see  you 
from  time  to  time." 

Of  course  David  agreed  to  the  flattering  arrange- 
ment, and  it  was  not  long  before  the  little  band  was 
established  at  Ziklag.  But  David's  real  intentions 
in  settling  thus  far  to  the  south  and  at  such  a 
distance  from  Gath  were  not  altogether  what  he  had 


148        DAVID  THE  SON  OF  JESSE 

led  Achish  to  suppose.  He  certainly  never  for  a 
moment  meant  to  invade  his  own  country,  and  the 
booty  with  which  he  was  to  provide  a  tribute  must 
come  from  other  sources.  Luckily  for  him,  there 
was  no  lack  of  desert  tribes  against  whom  he  could 
make  forays;  the  only  question  was  how  to  prevent 
the  news  reaching  Achish  that  it  was  not  against 
his  own  race  that  the  expeditions  were  being  made. 
A  solution  soon  presented  itself.  His  own  men 
would  keep  this  secret  readily  enough,  for  their 
safety  depended  upon  it ;  if  none  of  the  enemy  were 
left  alive,  there  would  be  no  one  else  who  could  be- 
tray it.  This  accordingly  became  David's  method 
of  warfare.  Whenever  he  descended  on  a  village 
or  a  nomad  encampment  he  put  the  whole  of  the 
enemy — ^men  and  women — to  the  sword,  and  car- 
ried off  the  live  stock  and  anything  of  value  they 
possessed.  It  w^as  a  disagreable  necessity — he  saw 
no  alternative.  He  was  exact  and  regular  in  his 
accounts  with  Achish  and  only  misled  him  as  re- 
gards the  original  owners  of  the  spoil. 

"David  is  certainly  safe  now,"  thought  Achish. 
"The  Israelites  must  by  this  time  hold  him  in  ab- 
horrence— he  has  quite  cut  himself  off  from  them 
and  has  no  choice  but  to  remain  in  our  service  for- 
ever." 


WITH  THE  PHILISTINES  149 

Chapter  III 

Meanwhile  David's  dreams  were  keeping  pace 
with  his  growing  knowledge  of  the  world  and 
familiarity  with  the  possibilities  of  power  and 
civilization.  His  fantasies  started  now  with  the 
assumption  that  he  would  be  king  of  Israel — this 
seemed  so  certain  that  the  idea  had  lost  much  of  its 
interest  to  him — ^but  then?  .  .  ,  What  then?  .  .  , 
He  laughed  to  himself  at  Saul's  idea  of  kingship — 
"as  well  be  a  farmer  like  Nabal,"  he  thought. 
"Why,  he  could  n't  even  lay  his  hands  on  me,  or 
kill  me  when  he  had  me  in  his  house.  Things 
sha'n't  be  like  that  when  Fm  king.  I'd  like  to  see 
any  of  them  disobeying  me — Abner !  or  Joab ! "  (But 
Joab  was  a  rather  uncomfortable  idea  and  he  turned 
away  from  it.)  He  would  have  absolute  order  and 
unity  in  his  own  kingdom — but  that  was  n't  enough. 
To  have  peace  he  must  prevent  the  constant 
Philistine  raids  that  ruined  the  land;  to  have  pros- 
perity he  must  possess  the  rich  Philistine  lands  with 
their  splendid  crops  of  corn  and  grape.  But  would 
such  a  thing  be  possible?  The  Israelites  to  con- 
quer— not  merely  to  defeat  in  battle — ^but  to  con- 
quer the  Philistines?     "Well,"  he  thought,  "if  any 


150        DAVID  THE  SON  OF  JESSE 

one  can  do  it  I  can,  for  I  know  them  as  enemies 
and  I  know  them  as  friends — I  know  their 
strength  and  their  weakness  .  .  .  they  're  heavy — - 
all  those  chariots — they  can't  move  quickly — they 
can't  change  a  plan  when  it 's  once  made — some- 
thing on  those  lines  .  .  ."his  thoughts  grew  vague, 
and  then  took  a  leap:  "And  when  the  Philistines 
are  subdued  I  '11  reduce  the  South  and  the  North 
and  the  East — and  my  empire  shall  be  bounded  by 
the  desert  and  the  'Great  Sea'!"  His  heart  beat 
violently  and  his  breath  came  quickly.  Then  he 
gave  a  laugh,  for  here  he  was,  a  servant  of  Achish 
of  Gath,  with  an  army  of  six  hundred,  and  Ziglag 
for  an  empire !     Well !  he  could  wait. 

One  day  David  was  summoned  urgently  to  Gath. 
When  he  got  there  he  found  that  the  situation  he 
had  been  afraid  of  had  arisen.  The  Philistines 
were  planning  a  great  descent  on  Saul,  and  Achish 
had  need  of  David  and  his  men. 

"How  many  can  you  bring  up,  David?  About 
six  hundred,  isn't  it?" 

"Yes,  it  '11  be  about  that,"  answered  David,  cau- 
tiously, and  searching  round  in  his  mind  if  there 
were  any  way  of  escape. 

"Now,  David,"  continued  Achish,  eagerly,  pull- 
ing him  down  to  a  seat  beside  him,  "I  '11  tell  you 
what  I  'm  going  to  do  .  .  .  you  know  how  I  hate 


WITH  THE  PHILISTINES  151 

having  you  so  far  away  in  Ziklag — three  days  off 
— at  the  ends  of  the  earth — well,  I  Ve  thought  of  a 
way  to  keep  you  here  beside  me  forever.  ...  I 
shall  make  you  the  captain  of  my  bodyguard! " 

David  exclaimed  upon  his  own  unworthiness  and 
the  seren's  overwhelming  kindness,  and  inwardly 
sighed  with  relief  when  pressure  of  business  obliged 
Achish  to  dismiss  him.  During  the  days  of  waiting 
for  the  arrival  of  his  own  troop  from  Ziklag  and 
the  assembly  of  the  rest  of  the  Gath  contingent  he 
occupied  himself  in  desperate  attempts  to  discover 
some  issue  to  the  dilemma  in  which  he  found  him- 
self. One  obvious  idea  was  to  wait  until  the  battle 
began  and  then  turn  upon  the  Philistines — he  re- 
membered Jonathan  telling  him  that  at  the  battle 
of  Michmash,  that  great  victory  for  the  Israelites, 
there  had  been  a  body  of  Hebrews  in  the  Philistine 
army  who  had  played  exactly  that  trick.  But  after 
long  consideration  he  rejected  this  plan.  In  the 
first  place,  he  felt  sure  that  the  Israelite  army  was 
now  hopelessly  incapable,  and  he  did  not  believe 
that  even  with  his  help  Saul  would  be  able  to  obtain 
a  victory.  And  defeat  in  those  circumstances  meant 
complete  ruin.  In  the  second  place,  even  if  by  some 
miracle — the  intervention  of  Yahweh,  or  some  lucky 
coup  of  his  own — the  Israelites  were  victorious,  he 
did  not  see  that  he  should  be  much  better  off.     He 


152        DAVID  THE  SON  OF  JESSE 

would  have  to  leave  Philistia,  and  the  old  story  of 
Saul's  distrust  or  a  life  of  exile  would  begin  over 
again.     No,  he  must  find  some  other  scheme.  .  .  . 

The  meeting  place  for  the  Philistine  army  was 
at  Aphek,  three  days  off  in  the  plain  of  Sharon. 
At  Lod,  where  the  Gittites  joined  the  main  road, 
they  came  across  the  other  bodies  of  Philistines, 
from  Gaza,  Ekron,  Ashkelon,  and  Ashdod,  all  ad- 
vancing to  the  rendezvous.  These  men  were  not 
inclined  to  be  as  friendly  with  David's  party  as 
their  old  acquaintances  of  Gath,  and  he  was  obliged 
to  keep  a  careful  watch  and  give  strict  orders  to 
prevent  disputes,  and  perhaps  more,  on  the  line  of 
march.  Indeed,  just  as  they  were  coming  to  the 
plain  of  Sharon  he  caught  one  of  his  own  men  and 
a  Philistine  from  Ekron  hacking  at  each  other  with 
their  swords.  He  immediately  handed  over  the 
Israelite  to  Joab,  with  orders  to  punish  him  severely, 
and  seizing  the  unfortunate  Philistine  dragged 
him  off  and  informed  him  that  at  the  end  of  the 
day's  march  he  would  be  dealt  with. 

He  was  as  good  as  his  word.  That  evening, 
when  the  camp  had  been  pitched  and  the  evening 
meal  was  over,  he  sent  for  his  captive  and  led  him, 
protesting  and  almost  in  tears,  to  the  tent  of  the 
seren  of  Ekron. 

The  seren,  who  was  sitting  alone  with  a  scribe, 


WITH  THE  PHILISTINES  153 

was  an  elderly  man,  very  dignified  and  stern.  He 
looked  at  David  with  ill-disguised  displeasure,  and 
did  not  seem  much  impressed  by  his  story  of  the 
quarrel  between  the  two  soldiers.  He  spoke  a  few 
sharp  words  to  the  Ekronite  and  sent  him 
off.  Then  turning  to  David,  he  said,  almost  as 
sharply: 

"How  do  you  come  to  be  here,  Hebrew?" 

"I  am  in  the  service  of  Achish  of  Gath,  my  lord," 
answered  David  with  a  low  obeisance. 

The  seren  grunted,  and  was  about  to  dismiss  him, 
when  David  suddenly  jerked  his  sword  out  from 
behind  his  coat  and  then,  with  some  deliberation, 
began  to  put  it  back  in  its  place. 

The  two  Philistines,  whose  eyes  had  naturally 
been  caught  by  the  weapon,  started,  and  the  scribe 
bent  forward  and  whispered  in  his  master's  ear. 

"Let  me  look  at  your  sword,  Hebrew,"  said  the 
seren.  "Yes,"  he  continued  after  looking  at  it 
carefully,  "this  was  the  sword  of  Goliath  of  Gath 
— was  it  not?" 

"Yes,  my  lord,"  answered  David. 

The  seren  bit  his  lip  and  stared  at  him;  the 
scribe  lent  forward  and  asked  in  a  silky  voice : 

"Then  are  not  you  the  celebrated  David,  the  son 
of  Jesse?" 

"I  am  David,  the  son  of  Jesse,  certainly,"  and 


154        DAVID  THE  SON  OF  JESSE 

David's  voice  hinted  that  it  was  not  for  him  to 
claim  celebrity. 

"Have  you  been  long  in  the  service  of  Achish?" 
asked  the  seren,  abruptly. 

"Only  two  years,  my  lord.  But  I  am  not  an 
altogether  untried  soldier,  nevertheless,  since  before 
becoming  the  servant  of  Achish  I  fought  for  some 
time  with  the  Hebrews." 

"So  I  understand,"  said  the  seren,  bitterly. 

"Though  I  am  still  far  from  the  knowledge  of 
war  that  would  make  me  worthy  to  fight  in  the  ranks 
of  such  famous  warriors  as  the  Philistines.  Doubt- 
less with  them,  officers  must  have  served  many  years 
before  reaching  high  command  .  .  .  my  lord  will 
perhaps  have  been  in  the  battle  of  Michmash?" 

The  seren  started  violently,  and  the  veins  stood 
out  on  his  forehead.  The  scribe  bent  hurriedly  over 
his  writings  to  conceal  the  malignant  smile  he  could 
not  keep  out  of  his  face.  Really,  the  tact  of  these 
Hebrews!  Fancy  mentioning  the  battle  of  Mich- 
mash to  a  Philistine!  And  it  happened  to  be 
particularly  rich,  for  the  seren  had  been  in  it,  and 
had  not  come  out  of  it  with  more  credit  than  any  one 
else  ...     in  fact,  there  was  a  story.  .  .  . 

"Go!"  said  the  seren,  fiercely;  and  David  made 
his  obeisance  and  withdrew  in  silence. 

Next  day  was  held  the  council  of  the  Philistine 


WITH  THE  PHILISTINES  155 

leaders.  Immediately  it  was  over  David  was  sent 
for  to  the  tent  of  Achish,  whose  disordered  counte- 
nance at  once  displayed  his  grief. 

"It  is  no  use,  David — I  did  my  very  best,  but  it 
is  not  to  be.  They  insist  that  you  are  to  be  sent 
back." 

"What  has  happened,  my  lord?" 

"Such  an  outcry  in  the  council!"  answered 
Achish.  "  'What  are  these  Hebrews  doing  here?' 
they  said.  'Well,'  said  I,  'you  all  know  how  David 
quarreled  with  Saul  years  ago,  and  since  he  has 
been  with  me  he  has  been  faultless  in  every  way.' 
But  it  was  no  use ;  there  was  that  old  ass  Maoch  of 
Ekron  who  kept  on  about  Michmash — as  if  you 
would  ever  betray  us — and  then  brought  up  that 
old  nonsense,  'Saul  has  slain  his  thousands  and 
David  his  ten  thousands' — and  then  his  impudent 
scribe  put  in  his  word — how  you  would  recon- 
cile yourself  to  Saul  with  a  present  of  all  of  our 
heads — and  all  the  others  chimed  in — and  the 
long  and  the  short  of  it  is  that  you  must  go  back  at 
once." 

"But,  my  lord,"  cried  David,  "what  have  I  done? 
Have  I  ever  been  unfaithful,  that  I  should  not  be 
allowed  to  fight  against  your  enemies?" 

"David,"  said  Achish,  seriously  and  sadly,  "all 
the  time  you  have  been  with  me  you  have  been  like 


156        DAVID  THE  SON  OF  JESSE 

an  angel  of  God.     But  the  council  has  decided 
against  you  and  I  can  do  no  more." 

There  was  a  pause;  Achish  continued: 
"You  must  go  back  to  Ziklag.  You  must  not 
make  any  delay,  but  start  in  the  morning  as  soon 
as  it  is  light.  And  David  ...  do  not  be  angry 
with  me  ...  do  not  design  any  evil  againsi,  me 
...  for  7  know  you  are  blameless  .  .  .  and  David 
— I  love  you." 


Chapter  IV 

David's  soldiers  were  amazed  at  the  pace  at  which 
he  began  the  march  back  to  Ziklag.  He  went 
nearly  twenty-five  miles  on  the  first  day,  and  another 
fifteen  the  following  day  brought  them  to  Gath, 
twenty  miles  from  home.  The  fact  was  David  was 
so  delighted  with  the  success  of  his  manceuvers  that 
he  felt  like  dancing  back  to  Ziklag  himself,  and 
was  impatient  of  the  smallest  delay  from  his  com- 
panions. As  usual,  his  spirits  soon  infected  his 
men,  and  they  pushed  on,  wondering  what  it  was 
all  about,  but  cheerfully  and  almost  gaily. 

On  arriving  at  Gath,  however,  they  felt  no  in- 
clination to  slacken,  but  rather  to  hurry  on.     The 


WITH  THE  PHILISTINES  157 

Gittites  met  them  with  long  faces  and  vague  tales 
of  disaster  at  Ziklag.  No  one  seemed  to  know 
exactly  what  it  was,  and  David  would  not  wait  to 
sift  their  stories,  but  urged  on  his  troop  that  they 
might  find  out  the  truth  for  themselves  as  soon  as 
possible. 

They  made  such  good  speed  that  they  came  in 
sight  of  Ziklag  before  sunset  on  the  third  day. 
Asahel  had  run  on  ahead  as  they  approached  the 
place  where  it  came  into  view;  he  gave  one  glance 
and  then  rushed  back  to  David,  his  face  white,  his 
lips  shaking. 

"It 's  .  .  .  it 's  .  .  ."  he  stammered,  but  could 
bring  nothing  more  out.  David  ground  his  teeth 
and  went  on;  when  he  came  to  the  rise  of  the  road 
he  stopped,  his  worst  fears  realized — the  town  was 
not  to  be  seen.  Instead  of  the  walled  enclosure  of 
houses  he  had  left  behind  there  was  a  small  heap 
of  ruins  from  which  rose  languid  spirals  of  smoke 
— black  against  the  hot  blue  sky.  The  sweat  broke 
out  on  his  forehead,  and  without  glancing  round  or 
uttering  a  word  he  began  to  run  toward  the  remains 
of  his  home.  What  should  he  find  when  he  got 
there  ? 

The  place  appeared  quite  deserted ;  not  a  creature, 
living  or  dead,  was  to  be  seen — nothing  but  charred 
fragments,   remains   of  what   had   been   dwelling 


158        DAVID  THE  SON  OF  JESSE 

places.  David's  men  came  close  on  his  heels,  and 
in  a  moment  the  desolation  was  increased  by  the 
wild  sobs  and  cries  of  the  fathers  and  husbands 
searching  vainly  amidst  the  devastation  for  some 
trace  of  their  dearest  possessions. 

"Joash — Joash,  my  darling,  where  are  you? 
.  .  .  My  Miriam  .  .  .  answer  me.  .  .  .  Not 
one  here — not  one  .  .  .  nothing  .  .  .  nothing  .  .  . 
nothing.  ..." 

What  agony  could  be  like  this?  David  stood 
in  the  midst  of  the  ruins,  the  tears  rushing  down 
his  cheeks,  wild,  fiery  sobs  tearing  his  lungs  and 
throat.  .  .  .     All  was  gone  .  .  .  all.  .  .  . 

Gradually  he  became  aware  of  the  people  around 
him,  and  aware,  too,  that  their  emotion  was  chang- 
ing its  character.  The  abandonment  of  despair 
was  over  and  was  succeeded  by  an  animal  rage  and 
desire  for  revenge.  But  against  whom  .could  they 
wreak  it  ?  The  enemy  had  chosen  their  time  well — 
they  had  done  their  work  and  vanished,  and  were 
now  out  of  reach  and  safe.  But  should  no  one 
suffer  for  this  outrage? 

Then  some  one  mentioned  the  name  of  David — 
was  not  he  responsible  for  it  all?  He  who  had  led 
them  out  to  battle  so  often?  Who  had  burnt  so 
many  towns?  Seized  so  much  plunder?  Exter- 
minated so  many  clans?     Was  not  this  clearly  a 


WITH  THE  PHILISTINES  159 

revenge  from  some  tribe  he  had  attacked?  Who 
was  to  blame  if  not  David?  The  murmurs  grew 
more  and  more  menacing;  each  man  incited  his 
neighbor,  and  suddenly  a  stone,  picked  up  from  a 
fallen  wall,  flew  through  the  air  and  cut  his  cheek. 
Instantly  he  awoke  from  the  stupor  into  which  his 
despair  had  thrown  him,  and  before  the  infection 
of  stone-throwing  had  time  to  spread  he  jumped  up 
on  a  little  mound  and  began  to  shout  to  the  furious 
soldiers. 

"You  do  well  to  be  angry  .  .  .  the  cowards  dare 
not  meet  us  face  to  face,  but  when  our  backs  are 
turned.  .  .  ." 

There  was  a  roar  of  approval,  and  then  silence, 
to  see  what  else  he  had  to  say. 

"But  don't  waste  your  anger  in  throwing  stones 
at  me.  You  '11  want  every  ounce  of  strength  to 
pursue  these  devils.  .  .  ." 

"But  who  are  they?  .  .  .  Pursue  which  way? 
.  .  .     What 's  the  good  of  pursuit?  .  .  ." 

"What 's  the  good  of  pursuit?  Ah,  I  thought 
it  would  be  Abiezar  who  would  ask  that !  Because, 
Abiezar,  as  you  can  see,  they  've  not  killed  a  single 
person — they  've  carried  every  living  creature  away 
with  them,  and  if  we  catch  them  in  time.  .  .  ." 

Another  shout  of  agreement,  but  still  one  objector 
who  called  out  again: 


160        DAVID  THE  SON  OF  JESSE 

"But  who  are  they?" 

"How  do  I  know?  But  with  a  little  common 
sense  we  might  find  out.  Has  anybody  found  any- 
thing they  left  behind  in  their  hurry?" 

There  was  some  calling  out  and  pushing,  and 
a  young  man  handed  up  an  embroidered  belt. 
David  glanced  at  it  and  held  it  out  to  the  crowd. 

"You  can  all  see  that  this  is  an  Amalekite  belt. 
Now,  it's  a  thousand  to  one  they've  gone  off  south- 
west toward  Egypt,  and  if  we  hurry  we  shall  reach 
them  in  time." 

There  were  still  some  dissentients,  and  a  discus- 
sion as  to  the  wisdom  of  this  idea  at  once  broke  out. 
But  David's  mind  was  made  up.  Abigail  and 
Ahinoam  and  his  unborn  child  were  among  the 
missing;  besides,  if  he  lost  grip  of  his  men  now  he 
was  lost.  He  must  have  his  own  way,  and  he  must 
convince  them  it  was  the  right  way;  it  was  largely 
a  question  of  time,  and  time  depended  on  the  good 
will  of  his  followers. 

"Abiathar,"  he  called  loudly,  "bring  me  the  ephod 
and  prepare  to  inquire  of  Yahweh  for  me  .  .  . 
Am  I  to  pursue  these  men?  .  .  .  Shall  I  overtake 
them?  .  .  .     Shall  I  recover  what  is  lost?" 

And  Yahweh  answered  through  the  sacred  lot: 

"Pursue:  for  thou  shalt  overtake  them,  and  shalt 
without  fail  recover  all." 


WITH  THE  PHILISTINES  161 

Chapter  V 

David  did  not  waste  a  single  moment.  He  called 
out  the  chief  officers  by  name  and  ordered  them 
sharply  to  get  the  men  together;  then,  though  the 
sun  was  setting  and  they  had  already  had  three 
day's  hard  marching,  he  set  out  again.  At  first 
the  anxiety  and  rage  in  the  men's  hearts  carried 
them  forward,  but  it  was  not  long  before  their  ex- 
haustion compelled  a  halt.  David  gave  them  an 
hour  and  pushed  them  on  again;  by  sunrise  they 
had  reached  a  brook  known  as  the  Besor,  and  here 
they  made  another  halt.  David  inquired  from  his 
officers  in  what  condition  the  men  were,  and  it  was 
discovered  that  about  two  hundred  of  them  were 
quite  incapable  of  going  farther.  It  was  agreed 
that  they  should  be  left  behind,  and  with  them  every 
scrap  of  baggage,  so  as  to  lighten  the  difficulties  of 
the  four  hundred  who  went  on. 

And  so  they  started  again  on  that  terrible  pursuit. 
Their  limbs  were  aching,  their  eyes  heavy  with  want 
of  sleep,  and  as  the  sun  increased  in  brilliance  and 
heat  a  violent  thirst  began  to  assail  most  of  them. 
But  David  at  least  was  unconscious  of  all  this. 
The  sweat  ran  down  into  his  eyes  and  he  rubbed  it 
away  mechanically — his  thoughts  were  fixed  on  the 


162        DAVID  THE  SON  OF  JESSE 

end  of  the  journey.  Would  there  be  any  end  ?  He 
pictured  them  going  on — on — on,  forever  through 
the  heat,  seeing  no  one,  meeting  no  one,  knowing 
no  more  than  they  knew  now.  How  long  would 
the  men  behind  him  follow?  How  long  would  he 
be  able  to  lead?  .  .  .  Or — ^another  horrible  sup- 
position— ^they  would  begin  to  come  to  the  bodies 
of  those  captives  who  could  not  keep  up  with  the 
rest — or  who  had  displeased  their  masters — Abigail 
the  devoted  and  beautiful,  or — good  God! — Ahin- 
oam  and  her  burden.  .  .  .  He  bit  his  lip,  and  did 
not  notice  the  blood  trickle  down. 

Suddenly  his  heart  almost  stopped  beating — 
there  was  a  human  figure  lying  across  the  road — 
was  it  the  imagined  ghastly  beginning  of  the  trail? 

"Asahel,"  he  whispered  with  dry  lips,  and 
pointed  to  the  body.  Asahel  went  forward  and 
presently  returned. 

"It  is  a  man — a  slave,"  he  said,  and  David 
breathed  again;  "I  think  he's  alive." 

David  went  up  to  him  and  looked  at  him  closely. 
Then  he  turned  round. 

"Two. of  you  carry  him  into  the  shade  of  that 
rock.  The  others  have  an  hour's  rest.  Gad,  we  've 
got  to  bring  this  man  to  life." 

It  was  a  long  business.  They  forced  water  between 
his  lips,  they  rubbed  his  hands,  his  legs,  his  chest, 


WITH  THE  PHILISTINES  163 

they  sprinkled  water  on  his  face.  Then  when  life 
began  to  show  signs  of  returning,  they  squeezed 
grape  juice  into  his  mouth,  and  at  last  when  he 
appeared  conscious  but  still  too  weak  to  move  or 
speak,  they  fed  him  with  small  pieces  of  bread  and 
dried  fruit.  David  watched  him  narrowly  all  the 
time,  and  at  last  judged  he  was  strong  enough  to 
answer  questions,  though  he  made  Gad  stand  by, 
ready  with  nourishment  and  water  if  they  were  re- 
quired. 

"To  whom  do  you  belong?"  David  began. 

"To  an  Amalekite."  David's  eyes  sparkled. 
Surely  they  were  on  the  right  track! 

"Where  do  you  come  from?" 

"I  am  an  Egyptian — "  then,  seeing  that  was 
not  what  the  questioner  meant — "we  had  been 
making  raids  upon  the  southern  Philistines,  and 
Judah,  and  the  south  of  Caleb;  and  we  burnt 
Ziklag." 

"How  did  you  come  here?" 

"Three  days  ago  I  fell  ill  and  my  master  left 
me  because  I  could  not  keep  up  with  the  rest." 

"Listen,  Egyptian."  David  knelt  down  in  front 
of  him  and  looked  at  him  fixedly.  "Will  you  show 
me  the  way  to  these  Amalekites?" 

The  young  man  hesitated.     At  last  he  said: 

"They  left  me  to  die  and  you  brought  me  back 


164        DAVID  THE  SON  OF  JESSE 

to  life.  Swear  to  me  by  your  god  that  you  will 
not  kill  me  and  I  will  take  you  to  them." 

"I  swear  by  the  life  of  Yahweh  that  I  will  not 
touch  a  hair  of  your  head,"  answered  David, 
promptly. 

"Yes,"  said  the  Egyptian,  nervously,  "but  swear, 
too,  that  you  will  not  give  me  up  to  my  master.  .  .  ." 

"Your  master!"  David  laughed  and  stood  up. 
"You  needn't  be  afraid  of  that;  we  come  from 
Ziklag!" 

Everything  now  depended  on  speed,  and  David 
laid  the  case  before  Joab,  consulting  him  as  to 
whether  it  would  be  better  policy  to  rest  longer  or 
to  start  at  once.  After  a  little  discussion  they 
agreed,  partly  for  the  sake  of  the  Egyptian,  to  wait 
another  half  hour  before  starting.  When  the  half- 
hour  was  up  David  assembled  the  men  and  told 
them  they  had  found  a  guide  and  that  if  they  could 
get  on  fast  enough  they  would  probably  catch  the 
abductors.  He  then  selected  a  dozen  of  the 
strongest  men  who  were  to  go  in  advance,  carrying 
the  Egyptian;  Asahel  was  attached  to  this  party, 
with  orders  to  run  back  to  David  directly  the 
Amalekites  were  sighted. 

The  four  hundred  set  out  again ;  but  now  that  the 
sun  was  creeping  down  the  sky  and  hope  was  in 
their  hearts,  everything  seemed  changed.     David's 


WITH  THE  PHILISTINES  165 

buoyant  spirits  were  rising  again — ^now  he  felt  sure 
that  Yahweh  had  been  right  and  they  would 
recover  all. 

"It 's  like  this,"  he  said  to  himself:  "if  we  find 
everything  and  everybody  untouched — absolutely 
everything — ^then  I  shall  know  for  certain  that 
I  'm  to  be  king  of  Israel  .  .  .  and  all  that;  but  if 
one  thing  is  missing,  nothing  will  come  off — I  shall 
be  Achish's  servant  all  my  life.  But  it  '11  be 
all  right,  I  know  .  .  .  only  everything  must  be 
there.  .  .  ." 

Twilight  was  beginning  when  the  welcome  sight 
of  Asahel  running  back  to  them  greeted  David. 

"Nothing  could  be  better,"  he  gasped;  "They're 
encamped,  but  they  've  no  sentinels.  They  're 
sitting  round  the  camp  eating  and  drinking  and 
making  a  fearful  din — at  least  half  of  them  must 
be  drunk.  The  women  and  children  and  plunder 
are  in  the  middle  of  the  camp,  quite  out  of  the  way." 

David  smiled  and  flung  off  his  coat;  he  wanted 
to  have  his  arms  free.  He  spoke  a  word  to  Joab 
and  the  men  began  spreading  out  in  a  wide  circle 
so  as  to  prevent  their  prey  from  escaping.  It  was 
hardly  worth  while.  The  Amalekites  were  as  help- 
less as  sheep  under  their  blows,  and  the  great  bulk 
of  them  were  slaughtered  like  sheep.  A  few  hun- 
dred in  the  confusion  of  the  massacre  found  camels 


166        DAVID  THE  SON  OF  JESSE 

and  fled  away,  but  the  killing  went  steadily  on  till 
long  after  the  sun  had  set.  When  the  last  Amale- 
kite  had  breathed  his  last,  the  Israelites  turned  to  the 
enclosure  in  the  middle  of  the  camp  where  the 
women  and  children  were  huddled,  in  the  midst  of 
the  live  stock  and  heaps  of  plunder.  All  were 
there  and  all  were  safe.  Ahinoam  was  sure  that 
all  was  well,  for  Abigail  had  taken  such  care  of 
her.  David  could  hardly  believe  it — were  they 
really  all  there? 

"Well,"  said  Joab,  "the  men  say  no  one  is 
missing — I  must  say  we've  had  luck,  David;  and 
look  at  that  pile  of  plunder — it  '11  build  ten  Ziklags 
the  size  of  the  one  they  burnt,  and  stock  them  with 
everything  they  want.  But,  thank  goodness,  here  's 
something  to  eat — after  that  I  shall  sleep  sound 
to-night." 

The  return  to  the  brook  Besor  the  next  day  was 
a  joyful  procession.  The  two  hundred  met  them 
with  shouts  of  triumph  and  amazement  at  the  sight 
of  the  booty.  After  a  while,  however,  a  hubbub 
arose  amongst  them,  not  quite  so  joyous,  and  David 
inquired  what  was  going  on. 

Abiezar  stepped  forward  and  made  his  obei- 
sance. 

"We  of  the  four  hundred,"  he  answered,  "are 
willing  to  give  back  to  the  two  hundred  their  wives 


WITH  THE  PHILISTINES  167 

and  children;  but  we  will  not  give  them  any  of  the 
spoil,  for  it  was  we  who  recovered  it  and  they  were 
not  there  at  all." 

David  laughed;  then  he  took  a  spear  in  his  hand 
and  sitting  down  called  the  disputants  before  him. 

"Listen  to  my  judgment,  my  brothers,"  he  said: 
"The  men  that  fight  in  the  battle  could  not  fight 
freely  if  there  were  not  men  left  behind  to  guard 
the  baggage  and  the  camp.  Both  are  of  equal  im- 
portance in  the  army;  therefore  let  both  share  alike 
in  the  division  of  the  spoil." 

He  could  not  help  smiling  when  he  heard  the 
shout  with  which  the  judgment  was  received  as 
a  statute  and  an  ordinance  for  Israel  forever,  and 
remembered  the  other  shouts  the  same  men  had 
given  only  two  days  ago  when  they  were  for  stoning 
him.  .  .  .  But  his  thoughts  did  not  linger  over 
that.  He  was  thinking  of  his  own  share  of  the 
spoil — it  would  obviously  be  colossal,  and  he  ought 
to  do  something  worth  while  with  it. 

"I  have  many  to  whom  I  am  indebted,"  he 
thought,  "and  there  are  many  who  can  be  won  over 
with  gifts  .  .  .  some  in  the  south  of  Judah  have 
suspected  me  since  I  have  served  the  Philistines  .  .  . 
now  is  my  chance  to  settle  with  all  these  men.  Well, 
I  believe  after  all,  the  Amalekites  burnt  Ziklag  in 
a  happy  hour  for  me ! " 


168        DAVID  THE  SON  OF  JESSE 

Chapter  VI 

When  they  got  back  to  the  ruined  Ziklag  the  first 
obvious  necessity  was  to  restore  the  place  to  a 
habitable  condition.  But  while  this  essential  work 
was  proceeding  David  set  aside  a  group  of  men  to 
whom  he  confided  the  spoil  he  was  going  to  give 
away,  together  with  suitable  messages  to  those  who 
were  to  receive  it.  These  men  he  sent  off  at  once, 
from  his  usual  desire  for  action  which  always  made 
it  painful  to  him  to  delay  executing  what  he  had 
determined  on;  and  this  time  something  whispered 
to  him  that  it  had  better  be  done  immediately. 
Who  knew  what  would  be  the  result  of  the  battle 
between  Saul  and  the  Philistines? 

The  day  after  their  return  David  was  called  off 
from  superintending  the  rebuilding  by  the  arrival  of 
Elihu.  Since  the  death  of  Samuel,  Elihu,  while 
remaining  in  Saul's  service,  had  apparently  come 
to  look  upon  David  as  one  who  stood  in  Samuel's 
place,  and  would  often  go  over  to  him,  more  or  less 
secretly,  to  tell  him  any  news  that  seemed  important 
or  interesting.  David  always  saw  him  and  saw  him 
alone,  and  encouraged  his  queer  discoursive  tales 
from  which  it  was  sometimes  so  difficult  to  extract 
the  kernel. 


WITH  THE  PHILISTINES  169 

"Well,  David,"  said  Elihu  at  once,  "here  is  a 
pretty  state  of  affairs;  and  what  news  we  may  ex- 
pect in  the  next  day  or  two  I  tremble  to  think  of." 

"You  trembling,  Elihu!  And  why  are  you  here 
instead  of  being  with  Saul  at  the  camp?  Or  per- 
haps the  battle  is  over,  and  you  have  come  to  bring 
me  news  of  it." 

"No,"  answered  Elihu,  shutting  his  mouth  with 
a  snap,  but  opening  it  again  at  once.  "I  can't 
bring  you  news  of  the  battle,  exactly,  for  I  've  not 
been  at  it ;  though  in  another  sense  that 's  just 
what  I  have  brought  you.  And  as  for  being  in 
Saul's  camp,  I  've  had  enough  of  Saul  and  his  camp 
too,  and  you  won't  find  me  near  either  of  them  again 
in  a  hurry." 

"What!  giving  up  Saul's  service  after  all  these 
years!"  cried  David.  "Why,  what  would  Samuel 
say  if  he  knew  of  it?" 

'''What  would  Samuel  say'!  Ah!  'What 
would  Samuel  say' I  And  suppose  I  were  to  tell 
you  that  it 's  just  what  Samuel  says  that 's  making 
me  do  it?" 

"What  Samuel  says?  I  suppose  you  mean  some 
advice  he  gave  you  years  ago,  as  to  what  to  do  in 
certain  circumstances?" 

"I  mean  nothing  of  the  kind — ^no  'advice'  or 
'certain  circumstances'  or  'years  ago'  in  it.     I  mean 


170        DAVID  THE  SON  OF  JESSE 

what  I  heard  Samuel  say  to  Saul  no  longer — or, 
rather,  no  shorter  ago  than  two  days ! " 

David  stared  at  Elihu,  completely  bewildered. 

"Well,  I  don't  understand  a  word  you  're  saying," 
he  said,  at  last.  "You  '11  have  to  tell  me  the  whole 
tale." 

"Yes!"  said  Elihu,  triumphantly;  "so  I  shall; 
and  then  you  won't  understand  a  word,  either! 
But  listen,  and  do  your  best.  You  know  how 
troublesome  Saul's  devil  has  been  getting  of  late — 
sometimes  it  has  n't  left  him  alone  for  days,  and 
really  it 's  been  most  unpleasant  going  near  him  at 
those  times.  I  believe  he  used  to  plague  you,  in 
the  old  days,  David,  so  you  '11  know  what  it 's  like 
— but  it 's  got  fifty  times  worse,  I  assure  you. 
Well,  when  he  heard  the  Philistines  were  out  again, 
he  got  into  one  of  his  regular  states,  and  presently 
began  calling  for  the  priest  to  cast  the  sacred  lot 
and  inquire  of  Yahweh  for  him.  You  can  imagine 
how  awkward  we  all  felt,  but  none  of  us  liked  to 
remind  him  of  what  had  happened  to  the  priests, 
and  he  was  getting  quite  furious,  when  Jonathan 
went  and  whispered  something  in  his  ear.  I  don't 
know  what  it  was,  but  it  seemed  to  calm  him  a  bit. 
Then  suddenly  he  shouted  out:  'Then  send  Samuel 
to  me ! '  Now,  David,  that  was  an  uncanny  thing 
to  say,  wasn't  it?     And  you  should  have  heard 


WITH  THE  PHILISTINES  171 

his  voice!  I  assure  you  it  made  me  creep.'.  .  . 
However,  presently  he  seemed  to  remember  and  said 
more  quietly,  'Oh,  he's  dead  too,  isn't  he?  No 
prophets  either,  then.'  He  got  a  little  calmer  after 
that,  and  Jonathan  and  Abner  got  the  tribesmen 
together  and  we  all  set  off  north — for  we  'd  heard 
the  Philistines  were  at  Shunem.  I  quite  thought 
you  'd  be  there  with  them,  David;  in  fact,  I  don't 
know  why  you  're  not.  ..." 

"Never  mind  about  that  now,"  said  David,  swal- 
lowing his  impatience  at  the  interruption;  "go  on 
with  your  story — it 's  most  interesting." 

"It  is,  isn't  it?"  said  the  delighted  Elihu,  "but 
you  wait  till  you  hear  the  end.  .  .  .  Well,  we 
camped  at  Gilboa,  and  that  very  evening  Saul  sent 
for  me.  I  saw  at  once  his  devil  was  on  him — his 
cheeks  were  red,  and  his  eyes  shining  and  open 
twice  as  wide  as  usual,  and  he  was  trembling 
all  over.  'Listen,  Elihu,'  says  he;  'I  have  in- 
quired of  Yahweh,  but  he  won't  answer.  I  've  tried 
dreams,  and  prophets,  and  Urim  and  Thummim, 
but  it 's  just  as  if  there  were  no  Yahweh  at  all — I 
get  no  answer — none,  none,  none.'  'Think  of  that ! ' 
said  I,  to  soothe  him;  but  he  went  on:  'Yes,  that 's 
all  very  well,  Elihu,  but  here  are  the  Philistines, 
and  how  am  I  to  know  whether  to  attack  them  or 
not,  and  whether  we  shall  be  successful,  if  Yahweh 


172        DAVID  THE  SON  OF  JESSE 

won't  answer?'  Well,  I  thought,  whatever  Yahweh 
says  or  does  n't  say,  it 's  certain  that  if  you  don't 
attack  the  Philistines  they  '11  attack  you,  and  so  as  to 
the  success  of  the  affair  we  've  only  to  wait  till  the 
end  of  the  battle  to  find  that  out  .  .  .  but,  of  course, 
I  did  n't  say  so  to  Saul.  But  then  I  discovered  why 
he  had  sent  for  me ;  he  pulled  my  sleeve  and  looked 
horribly  cunning  and  whispered  in  my  ear — as  if 
he  were  afraid  of  hearing  himself  what  he  was  go- 
ing to  say:  'Elihu,  you  must  find  me  a  witch,  and 
I  '11  go  and  inquire  from  her ! '  Now  I  'm  not  one 
of  those  who  's  easily  surprised,  but  I  must  say  that 
did  surprise  me,  for  you  know  how  Saul  put  to 
death  everybody  that  he  could  lay  hands  on  who 
told  fortunes.  However,  it  so  happened  that  I 
knew  of  just  the  woman  he  wanted,  and  not  so  far 
off,  either — it's  at  Endor  that  she  lives — and  I  told 
him  of  her  and  he  was  wild  to  go.  The  long  and 
the  short  of  it  is  that  the  same  night  Saul  and 
Joshua — that 's  one  of  his  servants — and  I  set  out 
for  Endor,  and  I  assure  you  my  heart  was  in  my 
mouth,  for  we  had  to  go  round  the  Philistine  camp 
at  Shunem  to  get  there  and  I  made  quite  sure  they  'd 
catch  us — but  they  did  n't.  Well,  we  got  to  the  old 
woman's  place  all  right  and  she  let  us  in.  Saul 
was  all  wrapped  up  so  that  his  face  was  hidden, 
and  he  'd  told  us  not  to  speak.     'Woman,'  says  he. 


WITH  THE  PHILISTINES  173 

'I  hear  you  have  a  familiar  spirit;  make  him  call 
up  the  person  I  shall  name,  that  I  may  question 
him.'  At  first  she  made  a  fearful  fuss — the  king 
had  forbidden  it,  and  she  dare  n't,  and  she  could  n't, 
and  so  forth.  But  Saul  quieted  her  and  coaxed  her, 
and  at  last  she  asked  who  was  to  be  brought  up. 
'The  Prophet  Samuel,'  said  he;  and  at  that  the 
woman  gave  a  scream  and  fell  on  her  knees.  'Why 
did  you  deceive  me?'  she  shrieked.  'I  know  you  're 
Saul.  .  .  .'  Well,  he  swore  by  Yahweh  he  would 
do  her  no  harm,  and  at  last  she  agreed  to  go  on. 
Now,  David,  by  this  time,  what  with  the  darkness, 
and  Saul's  devil,  and  the  witch's  familiar  spirit, 
and  all  the  screaming  and  swearing  that  had  been 
going  on,  I  was  beginning  to  feel  very  uncomfort- 
able, and  I  know  Joshua  was  too.  But  there  was 
worse  to  follow.  The  old  woman  began  to  rock  to 
and  fro  and  make  the  most  extraordinary  moans 
and  groans  you  ever  heard ;  then  suddenly  she  called 
out:  'I  see  a  god  coming  up  out  of  the  earth!'  I 
could  n't  see  anything,  and  it  was  awful  to  know 
spirits  were  there  you  could  n't  see.  'What  is  he 
like?'  asked  Saul,  and  the  witch  answered:  'He  is 
an  old  man  and  he  is  covered  with  a  robe.'  'Sam- 
uel!' exclaimed  Saul,  throwing  himself  on  the 
ground;  and,  of  course,  Samuel  was  an  old  man, 
and  most  often  wore  a  robe.     Joshua  and  I  did 


174        DAVID  THE  SON  OF  JESSE 

obeisance  too,  though  I  don't  suppose  he  noticed  us. 
Then — and  that  was  the  most  alarming  thing  of  all 
— Samuel  spoke,  and  I  recognized  his  voice  at  once. 
'Why  do  you  disturb  me,  and  bring  me  back  to 
earth?'  he  said,  and  I  would  not  have  been  Saul  for 
something.  'I  am  in  great  distress,'  he  answered, 
and  I  thought  his  voice  was  trembling.  'The  Philis- 
tines are  making  war  on  me  and  Yahweh  has  left 
me  and  will  not  answer  me  either  by  prophets  or 
by  dreams;  so  I  have  called  you  up  that  you  may 
tell  me  what  to  do.'  Then  Samuel's  voice  came 
again,  and  this  time  it  was  angrier  than  before: 
'And  why,  then,  do  you  consult  me,  if  Yahweh  has 
left  you  and  become  your  enemy?  By  to-morrow 
you  and  your  sons  with  you  will  have  fallen  and 
Yahweh  will  deliver  the  army  of  Israel  into  the 
hands  of  the  Philistines.'  At  that  Saul  fell  on  his 
face  on  the  floor,  and  I  suppose  Samuel  went  down 
into  the  earth  again,  for  the  old  woman  kindled  a 
light  and  came  to  Saul  to  see  what  she  could  do  for 
him.  At  first  Saul  would  n't  hear  of  anything  and 
lay  on  the  floor  groaning,  but  at  last  we  persuaded 
him  to  get  up  and  sit  on  the  old  woman's  bed  while 
she  prepared  some  food  for  us — and  I  must  say  she 
had  a  delicious  fatted  calf  and  some  excellent  un- 
leavened bread — I  'm  sure  we  all  needed  it  after 
those  dreadful  doings.     But  we  could  n't  stay  very 


WITH  THE  PHILISTINES  175 

long,  for  we  had  to  get  past  the  Philistine's  camp 
again.  We  managed  it  all  right,  and  when  we  'd 
once  got  Saul  safe  in  his  tent  I  made  off.  I  don't 
like  such  doings — and  if  Samuel 's  right  and  Yah- 
weh  is  going  to  deliver  the  army  of  Israel  into  the 
hands  of  the  Philistines,  I  for  one  don't  mean  to 
be  in  it.  .  .  ." 


Chapter  VII 

David  pondered  for  a  long  time  on  Elihu's  extraor- 
dinary story.  He  came  to  the  conclusion  that 
Saul  was  a  braver  man  than  he  had  thought,  though 
he  had  certainly  never  taken  him  for  a  coward. 
But  to  call  Samuel  up  from  the  dead!  He  shook 
his  head  and  felt  it  was  beyond  him.  As  regards 
Samuel's  prophecy,  he  thought  it  extremely  likely 
to  be  fulfilled,  for  the  Philistines  had  come  out  in 
great  force  and  Saul  had  evidently  gone  completely 
to  pieces — he  was  clearly  quite  incapable  of  com- 
manding the  Israelite  army  with  any  sort  of  ef- 
ficiency. He  waited  impatiently  for  news  of  the 
battle;  he  had  not  long  to  wait. 

On  the  third  day  after  the  return  to  Ziklag,  the 
day  after  Elihu's  visit,  David  saw  a  man  rushing 


176        DAVID  THE  SON  OF  JESSE 

toward  them  from  the  north.  As  he  came  nearer 
it  could  be  seen  that  his  clothes  were  torn,  and  his 
head  and  body  covered  with  dust.  As  he  ap- 
proached he  seemed  to  recognize  David  and  turned 
toward  him;  when  he  reached  him  he  threw  him- 
self on  the  ground  and  did  obeisance. 

"Where  do  you  come  from?"  asked  David,  as  the 
man  stood  up. 

"I  have  escaped  from  the  camp  of  Israel,"  was 
the  answer. 

"Well?"  said  David,  eagerly;  "how  did  the  battle 
go?  Tell  me!"  But  he  knew  the  answer  before 
he  heard  it. 

"The  Israelites  were  defeated  and  fled;  many  of 
them  have  been  killed;  Saul  and  Jonathan  are 
among  the  dead." 

Saul — ^yes,  but  Jonathan  too! 

"How  do  you  know  that  Saul  and  Jonathan  are 
dead?"  David  asked,  a  faint  doubt — was  it  a  hope? 
— still  lingering  in  his  mind. 

"I  happened  to  be  on  Mount  Gilboa  at  the  time 
of  the  battle.  The  Israelites  began  running  away 
almost  directly,  and  Jonathan  was  killed  in  the 
flight.  I  went  among  the  men  who  were  lying  on 
the  ground,  dead  or  wounded,  to  see  .  .  .  what  was 
going  on  .  .  .  and  I  came  upon  Saul  leaning  on 


WITH  THE  PHILISTINES  177 

his  spear.  When  he  saw  me  he  called  to  me  and 
I  went  to  him.  He  asked  me  to  take  his  sword 
and  kill  him,  for  he  had  been  wounded  by  an  arrow 
and  was  afraid  of  the  Philistines.  As  he  was 
speaking  he  fell  down;  so  I  took  his  sword  and 
killed  him.  And  I  took  his  diadem  and  his  armlet 
and  have  brought  them  to  you,  my  lord,  hoping  to 
find  favor  in  your  eyes  and  a  reward  for  bringing 
the  news  of  your  enemy's  death." 

.The  man  spoke  glibly,  almost  as  if  he  had  re- 
hearsed the  words  beforehand. 

David  stared  at  him,  and  for  a  while  made  no 
answer.     Then  he  said  slowly: 

"Of  what  tribe  are  you?" 

"I  am  the  son  of  a  stranger,"  answered  the  man, 
"an  Amalekite." 

"An  Amalekite!"  said  David.  "And  how  is  it 
that  you  were  not  afraid  to  lay  your  hands  on  the 
sacred  body  of  Yahweh's  anointed?  And  do  you 
come  to  me  for  a  reward  ?  Joab !  Take  this  man 
and  put  him  to  death." 

The  wretched  man  gave  a  loud  scream. 

"My  lord,  my  lord,  have  mercy!  it  was  a  lie! 
I  did  not  touch  him!  He  was  dead  when  I  came 
near — I  stole  the  diadem  and  armlet  from  his  body 
— mercy!  mercy!" 


178        DAVID  THE  SON  OF  JESSE 

But  David  turned  away  without  listening  to  his 
cries  and  protestations,  and  Joab  soon  silenced  him 
forever. 

For  the  rest  of  the  day  David  and  the  people  of 
Ziklag  at  his  orders  gave  themselves  up  to  mourn- 
ing. They  tore  their  clothes,  poured  dust  on  their 
heads,  uttered  the  shrill  wails  of  formal  grief,  and 
fasted  till  the  evening.  Then,  as  the  men  sat  round 
in  the  darkness,  still  meditating  gloomily  on  the 
fallen  splendors  of  Israel  and  the  house  of  Saul, 
David  sent  for  his  harp,  and  broke  out  into  a  great 
dirge: 

Hear,  O  Judah,  hard  things, 
Be  grieved,  O  Israel; 
Upon  thy  heights  lie  the  slain; 
How  are  the  mighty  fallen! 

Tell  it  not  in  Gath, 

Publish  it  not  in  the  streets  of  Ashkelon, 

Lest  the  daughters  of  the  Philistines  rejoice, 

Lest  the  daughters  of  the  uncircumcised  triumph. 

May  no  dew  descend  on  you,  mountains  of  Gilboa, 
Let  there  be  no  rain  upon  you,  fields  of  death ! 
For  there  was  cast  away  the  shield  of  heroes, 
The  shield  of  Saul  as  though  he  had  not  been  anointed 
with  oil. 


WITH  THE  PHILISTINES  179 

From  the  blood  of  the  slain, 

From  the  fat  of  the  mighty, 

The  bow  of  Jonathan  turned  not  back, 

And  the  sword  of  Saul  returned  not  empty. 

Saul  and  Jonathan,  the  loved  and  the  lovely, 
As  in  life  so  in  death,  they  were  not  divided, 
They  were  swifter  than  eagles. 
They  were  stronger  than  lions. 

Ye  daughters  of  Israel,  weep  over  Saul, 
Who  clothed  you  in  purple  and  fine  linen, 
Who  put  ornaments  of  gold  upon  your  apparel. 

How  are  the  mighty  fallen 
In  the  midst  of  the  battle! 
Jonathan,  by  thy  death 
My  heart  is  pierced  through. 

I  am  distressed  for  thee,  my  brother; 
Very  pleasant  hast  thou  been  unto  me: 
Thy  love  to  me  was  wonderful, 
Passing  the  love  of  women. 

How  are  the  mighty  fallen, 

And  the  weapons  of  war  perished! 


Book  II 
THE    KING 

"And   he   gave   them   their   desire   and   sent  leanness  withal  into 
their  soul."—Ps.  cvi,  15. 


! 


PART  I 

THE  KINGDOM 

Chapter  T 

THE  situation  caused  by  the  death  of  Saul  did 
not  find  David  unprepared.  There  was  now 
no  reason  why  he  should  not  return  to  Judah,  and 
his  arrival  would  provide  a  center  for  rallying  the 
Hebrew  tribes  so  violently  shattered  by  the  disaster 
on  Mount  Gilboa.  He  had  not,  at  first,  thought  of 
consulting.  Yahweh  as  to  the  advisability  of  a  move. 
Before,  however,  he  had  taken  any  overt  step, 
rumors  reached  him  from  various  sources  that  the 
men  of  Judah  intended  to  make  him  king.  This, 
he  thought,  altered  the  case.  He  was  determined 
that  everything  connected  with  the  throne  and  his 
approach  to  it  should  be.  surrounded  by  the  greatest 
possible  sanctity,  and  put  under  the  special  protec- 
tion of  Yahweh  himself.  He  therefore  called  a 
solemn  assembly  of  all  his  men,  at  which  Abiathar 
consulted  the  sacred  oracle,  and  announced  that  it 

183 


184        DAVID  THE  SON  OF  JESSE 

was  the  will  of  Yahweh  for  them  to  return  to 
Judah,  to  the  city  of  Hebron. 

It  soon  became  evident  that  the  rumors  as  to  the 
intentions  of  the  Judeans  were  correct.  One  by 
one  the  chief  men  of  the  countryside  came  up  to 
Hebron  to  have  a  personal  interview  with  David, 
and  to  suggest  the  importance  of  a  consecrated 
leader.  After  a  few  months  of  inevitable  di- 
plomacy and  formality  an  agreement  was  come  to, 
and  David  was  anointed  king  of  Judah. 

The  Northern  tribes  all  this  time  had  held  aloof. 
They  sent  no  messages  to  David,  and  it  was  only 
after  a  considerable  time  that  he  discovered  what 
had  been  going  on  there.  Abner  had  rallied  what 
remained  of  the  Israelite  army,  had  taken  the  in- 
significant Ishbaal,  the  last  survivor  of  Saul's  sons, 
to  Mahanaim,  in  Gilead  on  the  other  side  of  the 
Jordan,  and  declared  him  to  be  king  of  Israel  in 
his  father's  place.  David  shrugged  his  shoulders 
when  he  heard  the  news.  He  realized  that  it  would 
mean  trouble  between  Israel  and  Judah,  but  he 
was  certain  that  the  combination  of  Ishbaal  as  king 
and  Abner  as  commander  of  the  army  was  too  un- 
stable to  last  long — ^to  say  nothing  of  the  attitude 
of  the  Philistines. 

He  himself  was  determined  to  stand  well  with 
his  late  masters,  at  any  rate  for  the  present.     He 


THE  KINGDOM  185 

sent  a  message  to  Achish,  excusing  himself  for  hav- 
ing left  Ziklag,  and  suggesting  that  they  might  come 
to  some  arrangement  as  to  his  remaining  in  Hebron 
as  king  of  Judah,  undisturbed  by  the  Philistines. 
Meanwhile  another  piece  of  news  percolated 
through  from  the  north.  After  the  battle  of  Mount 
Gilboa  the  Philistines  had  seized  the  bodies  of  Saul 
and  his  sons,  sent  their  armor  to  the  temple  of  Ash- 
taroth  at  Ashkelon,  and  fastened  the  bodies  up  on 
the  wall  beside  the  chief  gate  of  Beth-Shan,  a  town 
in  the  valley  of  Jezreel.  Presently  it  was  whispered 
that  during  the  night  the  bodies  had  mysteriously 
disappeared  from  the  wall,  and  there  was  great  re- 
joicing among  the  Hebrews  and  much  wondering 
as  to  who  had  carried  out  the  daring  raid.  Even- 
tually it  leaked  out  that  it  had  been  accomplished 
by  the  men  of  Jabesh  Gilead  in  gratitude  to  Saul, 
who  in  his  early  days  had  saved  the  town  from 
destruction.  David  immediately  seized  the  op- 
portunity to  get  into  touch  with  them.  He  sent  a 
message  announcing  that  as  Saul  was  dead  the 
men  of  Judah  had  anointed  him  king  in  his  place; 
he  thanked  them  for  their  piety  and  fidelity  in  bury- 
ing the  last  king  and  hoped  that  they  would  now 
give  their  loyal  support  to  himself,  Saul's  true  suc- 
cessor. Jabesh  was  too  closely  under  Abner's  eye 
for  David  to  expect  much  response  to  this  sugges- 


186        DAVID  THE  SON  OF  JESSE 

tion,  but  his  messenger  brought  back  word  that  it 
had  not  been  ill  received. 

It  was  not  long  before  Abner  showed  that  he  had 
no  intention  of  allowing  David's  claim  to  be  Saul's 
successor,  even  over  the  southern  tribes,  to  pass  un- 
disputed. He,  too,  must  have  made  some  sort  of 
agreement  with  the  Philistines,  for  he  was  soon 
heard  of  at  the  head  of  an  army  on  the  west  bank 
of  the  Jordan  marching  south,  and  announcing  that 
he  was  going  to  make  mince-meat  of  the  upstart 
king  of  Judah.  Just  at  this  moment  messengers 
from  Achish  arrived,  and  David,  reluctant  to  leave 
the  delicate  negotiations  it  was  necessary  to  enter 
into,  decided  that  he  must  stay  at  Hebron,  and  en- 
trusted the  repulse  of  Abner's  army  to  Joab. 

The  conversations  with  Achish's  envoy  turned 
out  very  satisfactorily.  David  agreed  to  pay  a 
yearly  tribute  to  Achish,  who,  it  seemed,  was  willing 
to  accept  a  by  no  means  exorbitant  sum,  and  would 
look  upon  himself  as  David's  suzerain.  Every- 
thing was  settled  in  a  friendly  manner,  and  the  em- 
bassy sent  politely  back  to  Gath,  while  David  be- 
gan to  wonder  what  had  happened  to  Joab,  and 
why  he  sent  no  news  to  Hebron.  At  last,  in  the 
early  dawn,  the  sound  of  tramping  men  was  heard. 
Joab  was  immediately  shown  in  to  David  and  his 


THE  KINGDOM  187 

heavy,  scowling  face  announced  some  black  dis- 
aster. 

''What  is  it,  Joab?"  David  asked  anxiously. 
"What  went  wrong?  You  do  not  seem  to  have  had 
very  heavy  losses.  .  .  ." 

"Asahel,"  answered  Joab  heavily. 

"Asahel!  Asahel  killed?"  David  groaned  and  hid 
his  face  in  his  hands. 

"But  I  '11  have  Abner's  life  for  it  yet,"  growled 
Joab.  "He  may  be  thankful  he  escaped  this 
time.  ..." 

"Tell  me  everything  that  happened,"  said  David 
after  a  little,  and  Joab  went  on: 

"We  met  them  by  the  pool  of  Gibeon — we  were 
on  one  side  and  they  on  the  other.  Abner  sug- 
gested that  some  of  the  young  men  should  have  a 
sham  fight  and  I  agreed,  so  twelve  Benjamites  stood 
up  and  twelve  of  ours  went  across  to  them.  They 
were  to  fight  in  pairs — but  I  don't  know  what  hap- 
pened, only  they  all  used  their  swords  and  the  whole 
lot  of  them  were  killed — they  killed  each  other, 
somehow.  Well,  then  we  went  for  them  and  they 
bolted.  Asahel — you  know  how  he  could  run — 
was  on  ahead  of  us  all,  making  for  Abner,  who  was 
behind  his  men.  Abner  turned  round  and  I  heard 
him  call  out,  'Go  for  some  one  else,  Asahel;  I  don't 


188        DAVID  THE  SON  OF  JESSE 

want  to  kill  you.'  But  Asahel  went  straight  on, 
and  when  he  got  near,  Abner  turned  his  spear  round 
and  pushed  it  backward  right  through  Asahel's 
body.  .  .  ."  Joab  stopped;  and  after  a  while  be- 
gan again: 

"Abishai  and  I  went  on  without  stopping  and 
most  of  our  men  did  too,  and  we  killed  a  good 
many  of  them.  About  sunset  they  got  together  on 
to  a  hill  and  Abner  proposed  a  truce.  We  were 
all  pretty  tired  by  then  and  I  agreed  on  condition 
Abner  went  back  to  Gilead.  He  consented  and  I 
watched  him  go  off.  We  went  back  and  took 
Asahel  to  Bethlehem  and  buried  him  there.  .  .  . 
We  lost  nineteen  men  and  Asahel — I  should  think 
the  Benjamites  lost  over  three  hundred.  .  .  ." 


Chapter  II 

Not  long  after  David  came  to  Hebron  his  eldest 
son  was  born.  He  called  the  child  Amnon,  and 
was  inordinately  proud  and  fond  of  him.  Just 
after  he  was  anointed  king  the  second  boy,  Chileab, 
was  born,  and  to  his  great  grief  Abigail  died  in 
giving  him  birth.  David  had  already  entered  into 
negotiations  with  Talmai,  king  of  Geshur,  for  the 


THE  KINGDOM  189 

hand  of  his  daughter  Maacah,  and  presently  he  took 
another  wife,  Eglah,  and  two  concubines. 

At  the  same  time  that  he  was  enlarging  his  private 
establishment  he  developed  the  administration  of 
the  country.  The  army  was  still  his  chief  concern, 
for  the  war  with  Ishbaal  dragged  on,  and  besides 
he  always  kept  in  his  mind  the  necessity  for  a 
future  war  with  the  Philistines.  He  had  an  elabor- 
ate system  of  officers — three  heads  of  divisions,  and 
thirty  subordinates — most  of  these  were  men  who 
had  been  with  him  in  the  wilderness  and  at  Ziklag; 
and  indeed  the  whole  scheme  was  a  development  of 
what  had  existed  in  embryo  there.  His  most  im- 
portant innovation  was  the  establishment  of  a 
Philistine  bodyguard,  with  a  northern  and  a  south- 
ern division — the  Pelethites  and  the  Cherethites — 
under  the  command  of  Benaiah  the  son  of  Jehoiada, 
one  of  the  most  distinguished  of  his  fighters. 

David  had  persuaded  Elihu,  after  the  battle  of 
Mount  Gilboa,  to  return  to  Israel,  and,  when  Abner 
had  established  some  order,  to  put  himself  in  the 
service  of  Ishbaal.  He  was,  however,  not  surprised 
when,  after  the  war  between  Judah  and  Israel  had 
been  going  on  for  some  time,  Elihu  presented  him- 
self at  Hebron.  What  did  surprise  him  was  that 
Elihu  declared  he  was  a  messenger  from  Abner. 
David  could  not  help  smiling  at  this  incongruous 


190        DAVID  THE  SON  OF  JESSE 

choice  of  an  ambassador,  and  in  spite  of  the  official 
nature  of  his  visit  insisted  on  seeing  him  alone,  for 
he  was  convinced  that  an  informal  conversation 
would  be  more  profitable  as  well  as  more  entertain- 
ing than  a  ceremonious  court  interview.  He  had 
no  difficulty  in  persuading  Elihu  that  this  arrange- 
ment was  the  most  flattering  that  could  be  made. 

"Well,  David,"  began  the  exalted  one,  "it 's 
wonderful  to  think,  is  n't  it,  how  we  've  both  got  on 
in  the  world!  I  an  ambassador  and  you  a  king! 
And  fancy,  when  first  we  met  I  was  the  servant  of 
an  old  prophet  and  you  kept  sheep  on  the  hillside! '' 

"True,"  said  David,  gravely,  "but  worth  will  tell 
in  the  end ! " 

"So  it  will,  so  it  will!  Though  I  shall  always 
say  it  was  my  doing  that  you  got  your  start,  in  com- 
ing to  Saul's  court — not  that  I  deny  you  were  a 
good  fighter  in  your  youth,  and  no  doubt  it  helped 
you  on  a  bit  killing  Goliath  of  Gath  single-handed, 
in  front  of  two  armies." 

"Not  as  much  as  your  bringing  me  to  Gibeah 
in  the  first  place,"  answered  David,  with  an  inward 
smile.  "But  now,  as  regards  this  embassy  from 
Abner.  .  .  ." 

"Ah !  Abner !  What  a  man  he  is !  But  you  'd 
hardly  know  him  now,  David,  he  's  so  important. 
Nothing  can  be  done  without  him — why  the  king 


THE  KINGDOM  191 

himself  gives  way  to  him,  and — would  you  believe 
it^he  actually  had  an  affair  with  Rizpah ! " 

"What  do  you  mean?  Rizpah  the  daughter  of 
Aiah?     Saul's  concubine?" 

"Ah,  I  thought  that  would  surprise  you — ^but 
he  made  no  secret  of  it ! " 

"But  is  he,  then,  going  to  make  himself  king  of 
Israel?"  asked  David,  in  amazement,  for  the  king's 
harem  passed  with  the  crown  to  his  successor,  and 
to  take  a  dead  ruler's  widow  was  to  lay  claim  to 
his  kingdom. 

"Just  what  we  all  wanted  to  know,  and,  as  you 
may  suppose,  Ishbaal  was  in  a  pretty  state  of  ex- 
citement. It  seems  he  tried  to  speak  to  Abner 
alone,  but  Abner  would  n't  go  to  him,  so  at  last  he 
made  up  his  mind  to  question  him  in  front  of  us 
all,  but  when  it  came  to  the  point  he  was  so  flustered 
that  all  he  could  say  was:  'Why  did  you  go  in  to 
my  father's  concubine?'  Well,  Abner  flew  into 
such  a  rage  as  you  never  saw.  'Am  I  a  dog's 
head?'  he  shouted.  'Here  am  I,  showing  kindness 
to  your  father's  house  and  friends,  saving  you  from 
David — and  small  chance  you  'd  have  against  him, 
and  now  you  pester  me  with  some  nonsense  about 
a  woman!'  All  this  time  he  was  shaking  his  fist 
in  Ishbaal's  face  in  quite  an  alarming  manner. 
'All  right,'  he  went  on,  yelling  as  loud  as  ever,  'all 


192        DAVID  THE  SON  OF  JESSE 

right,  I  've  done  with  you — let  the  kingdom  be  taken 
from  the  house  of  Saul — let  David  set  up  his  throne 
over  Israel  and  over  Judah,  from  Dan  to  Beersheba. 
I  've  done  with  you ! '  and  with  that  he  rushed  out. 
As  for  Ishbaal,  he  sat  there  as  white  as  a  sheet  and 
never  said  a  word.  But  the  best  of  it  is  that  Abner 
means  every  word  of  it,  and  that 's  what  he  's  sent 
me  to  you  for." 

"That?"  Again  David  could  hardly  believe  his 
ears.  "To  make  me  king  of  Israel?  Are  you 
sure,  Elihu?     It 's  such  a  strange  tale." 

"It  is  a  strange  tale,  and  I  'm  not  surprised  you 
hardly  believe  it — I  don't  know  that  I  should  if 
you  were  to  tell  it  to  me.  But  it 's  true  enough  all 
the  same.  He  's  sent  out  other  messengers  as  wtII 
as  me — to  all  the  tribes  of  Israel — telling  them  you 
ought  to  be  king — he  sent  specially  to  Benjamin,  I 
know,  for  I  came  as  far  as  Gibeah  with  the  man, 
myself." 

David  pondered  for  a  long  time.  The  whole 
thing  sounded  like  an  outburst  of  frenzy;  but  he 
knew  that  Abner  could  break  out  sometimes,  like 
his  cousin  Saul,  and  he  supposed  now  there  was 
no  one  to  control  him. 

"Well,  Elihu,"  he  said  at  last,  "you  have  n't  given 
me  the  message  yet." 

"Why,  nor  have  I!"  exclaimed  Elihu.     "Fancy 


THE  KINGDOM  193 

my  forgetting  that!  Well,  this  is  the  message — I 
know  the  words  quite  well,  for  I  learnt  them  by 
heart  so  as  to  make  no  mistake — 'Abner  of  Benja- 
min to  David,  king  of  Judah:  The  land  is  under 
my  hand  to  give  it  to  whom  I  please.  Make  a 
league  with  me  and  I  will  help  you  and  bring  all 
Israel  under  your  rule.'  " 

David  thought  again. 

"And  this  is  my  answer,  Elihu,  learn  it  as  well 
as  you  learnt  your  message  to  me:  David,  the 
anointed  of  Yahweh  to  Abner :  I  will  make  a  league 
with  you,  but  I  will  not  see  you,  nor  go  further  in 
the  matter  unless  you  first  deliver  to  me  my  wife 
Michal,  Saul's  daughter!" 

"Saul's  daughter!  Of  course!  Ah,  David,  do 
n5t  I  remember  your  betrothal  and  the  price  you 
paid  for  it!  Well,  I  sha'n't  forget  your  answer; 
you  may  be  sure  of  that!   .  .  ." 


Chapter  III 

David  felt  extremely  doubtful  as  to  Abner's  object 
in  opening  these  negotiations  with  him.  He  thought, 
however,  that  the  demand  for  Michal  would  be  a 
slight  test  of  good  faith,  while  if  he  succeeded  in 


194        DAVID  THE  SON  OF  JESSE 

obtaining  her,  his  position  as  successor  to  Saul 
would  undoubtedly  be  strengthened. 

But  he  need  have  felt.no  doubts.  Abner  was  ir- 
ritated by  Ishbaal's  flabby  futility,  and  had  really 
been  enraged  by  his  attempted  interference  over 
Rizpah.  Recognizing  that  he  could  not  get  the 
kingdom  for  himself,  he  determined  that  it  would 
be  better  to  serve  under  a  king  who  was  a  man 
instead  of  a  doll,  and  resolved  to  do  everything  he 
could  to  satisfy  David's  conditions. 

After  talking  to  Elihu  on  his  return  he  came  to 
the  conclusion  that  it  would  be  best  for  him  to  see 
David  in  person,  in  order  to  discuss  the  situation. 
David,  however,  had  sent  word  that  he  would  not 
see  him  unless  Michal  had  been  delivered  to  him — 
the  simplest  thing,  therefore,  would  be  to  take  her 
with  him.  He  accordingly  set  out,  accompanied 
by  twenty  men,  first  sending  word  to  Paltiel  to 
meet  him  with  her  at  Bahurim  at  the  top  of  the 
way  down  to  the  ford  over  Jordan.  The  unhappy 
Paltiel,  guessing  only  too  well  what  this 
order  meant,  dared  not  disobey  it,  and  went  off 
to  the  meeting  place.  Abner  was  there  waiting 
for  him;  he  gave  one  glance  at  Michal  to  make 
sure  it  was  she  and  then  turned  to  one  of  his 
men. 

"Here,  Abimelech,  take  charge  of  her.     See  she 


THE  KINGDOM  195 

has  what  she  wants,  but  don't  lose  sight  of  her. 
Now,  Paltiel,  be  off." 

Paltiel,  the  tears  streaming  down  his  face,  was 
caressing  his  wife,  and  sobbing  out  his  last  fare- 
well; but  Abner  was  in  a  hurry  to  start.  Paltiel 
was  pulled  away  and  pushed  off  toward  home, 
sobbing  as  he  went.  Michal  sat  absolutely  rigid, 
without  a  word  or  a  tear. 

David,  who  always  kept  himself  closely  informed 
as  to  what  was  going  on  among  the  tribes,  had 
heard  of  Abner's  approach.  His  first  considera- 
tion was  to  get  Joab  and  Abishai  out  of  the  way, 
for  he  really  wanted  to  see  Abner  and  was  afraid 
that  the  blood  feud  between  him  and  his  nephews 
might  lead  to  a  disaster,  which  would  prevent  it 
before  he  could  intervene.  The  sons  of  Zeruiah 
were  therefore  sent  off  on  an  expedition  against  the 
Amalekites,  who  had  been  giving  trouble  again, 
and  David  hoped  to  get  them  out  of  Judah  before 
they  had  a  chance  of  hearing  that  Abner  was  at 
hand. 

The  day  after  they  had  gone  Abner  arrived. 
David  received  Michal  publicly  and  ceremoniously, 
and  himself  led  her  to  his  harem.  Then  he  re- 
turned to  Abner,  ordering  every  one  else  to  with- 
draw. 

"Well,  Abner,"  began  David,  "it  is  a  long  time 


196        DAVID  THE  SON  OF  JESSE 

since  we  met  .  .  .  more  than  ten  years — is  it  not?" 

"Yes — my  lord — "  answered  Abner  choking  and 
making  a  grimace  over  the  honorific  as  if  it  were 
nasty  medicine.  "And  my  lord  has  prospered 
wonderfully.  ..." 

David  laughed  genially. 

"Come,  Abner,  while  we  are  alone  won't  you  re- 
member that  you  knew  me  as  a  boy  who  played  the 
harp  and  did  nothing  else  in  particular,  and  call 
me  David?"  Abner  began  to  thaw,  and  David 
went  on:  "And  how  do  you  like  being  in  Gilead? 
Mahanaim  is  n't  much  of  a  town  compared  with  Gi- 
beah,  I  suppose." 

"Horrible — ^perfectly  horrible — and  to  think  of 
Benjamin  being  all  this  time  in  the  hands  of  the 
Philistines — and  not  a  blow  struck  to  get  it  back ! " 

"Well,  I  don't  know  whether  it 's  ^ue  to  Ish- 
baal  or  to  you,  Abner,  but  all  the  blows  that  have 
been  struck  have  been  against  Judah." 

"Nothing  more  true — and  in  order  to  be  free  to 
do  it  we  pay  tribute  to  the  uncircumcised  dogs,  in- 
stead of  leaguing  ourselves  with  you  to  shake  them 
off — ^but  I've  done  with  such  folly  forever!"  ex- 
claimed Abner,  cojiveniently  forgetting  that  he  alone 
was  the  author  of  the  policy  he  was  so  ardently 
condemning. 

"I  hear  something  of  a  dispute  between  you  and 


THE  KINGDOM  197 

the  king  of  Israel,"  said  David,  cautiously,  and 
Abner  broke  out  again: 

"Ah,  he  treated  me  like  a  dog! — but  I  've  had 
enough  of  him  and  his  whining  ways,  and  so  I 
said  to  him.  The  Israelites  will  listen  to  what  I 
say,  and  I  shall  tell  them — I  've  told  them  already 
— that  we  want  a  man  to  be  our  ruler  and  that  you 
are  the  man  we  want." 

"That 's  very  flattering  of  you — and  no  doubt 
you  deal  persuasively  with  the  leaders  of  Israel — 
but  I  expect  you  find  it  takes  even  you  all  your 
skill  to  convince — say,  the  Benjamites,  that  I  should 
make  a  better  king  for  them  than  some  one  of  the 
house  of  Saul." 

"You  might  think  so — I  thought  so  myself  till 
I  began  sounding  them,  but  I  assure  you,  David, 
there  is  but  one  wish  among  them,  and  that  is  to 
have  you  as  their  king." 

David  stared  at  Abner,  listening  attentively  to 
what  he  said.  He  was  becoming  convinced  that 
Abner  was  right  in  his  estimate  of  public  opinion 
in  the  North — his  own  private  information  bore 
out  Abner's  view,  and  he  could  not  see  that  it  was 
to  any  one's  interest  to  deceive  him.  But  if  this 
was  true,  if  the  tribes  of  themselves  were  anxious 
to  shake  off  Ishbaal's  so-called  rule,  if  Abner's 
persuasions  were — as  he  himself  maintained — in 


198        DAVID  THE  SON  OF  JESSE 

reality  superfluous,  then  the  importance  of  Abner 
to  David  as  a  go-between  was  certainly  diminished. 

"Well,"  said  David,  thoughtfully,  "I  see  no 
reason  why  I  should  not  consent  to  rule  over  the 
Israelites  if  they  really  desire  it.  But  mind,  Abner, 
ho  one  is  to  lay  a  finger  on  Ishbaal — I  will  deal 
with  him  myself,  do  you  understand?" 

"Very  well,"  answered  Abner,  carelessly,  "I  dare 
say  he  's  not  worth  touching — he  '11  never  interfere 
with  you." 

"And  now,  as  regards  yourself — you  will  expect 
some  recognition  of  your  services?" 

"There  's  only  one  thing  I  want,  David,  but  I 
must  have  it."  ("Must,"  thought  David;  "that's 
a  bad  beginning.")  "You  must  give  me  command 
of  the  whole  army — immediately  under  yourself, 
of  course." 

"No  one  is  better  fitted  for  it,  certainly," 
answered  David,  "but  .  .  .  there  are  one  or  two 
difficulties  in  the  way — for  instance,  Joab.  He  's 
not  exactly  in  command,  but  he  's  always  been  next 
to  me,  all  the  years  we  were  in  exile,  and  I  don't 
know.  .  .  ." 

"Well,  you  '11  have  to  make  up  your  mind  about 
that.  I  sha'n't  come  unless  I  'm  to  have  that  posi- 
tion.    And  as  for  Joab  and  Abishai,  it 's  perfect 


THE  KINGDOM  199 

nonsense  for  them  to  give  themselves  the  airs  they 
do — ^young  upstarts!  You  want  to  keep  a  firmer 
hand  on  them,  David." 

David  was  thinking  that  this  was  not  a  very 
hopeful  mood  in  which  to  enter  into  relations  with 
men  with  whom  one  had  a  blood  feud.  He  foresaw 
endless  difficulties  over  this  arrangement — open 
quarrels,  hidden  intrigues — and  yet,  though  Abner 
might  not  be  essential  in  bringing  the  Israelite 
tribes  over  to  him,  if  he  were  sent  away  vexed  and 
disappointed  he  might  easily  alienate  them  and  stir 
up  war  again.  He  thought  he  must  close  with 
Abner's  proposal — at  present — and  see  if  anything 
turned  up. 

"There  is  a  good  deal  in  what  you  say,  Abner. 
There  's  no  doubt  you  've  had  more  experience  than 
any  of  us,  and  would  be  quite  invaluable  as  a 
leader.  I  think  you  may  consider  that  as  settled, 
then.  Bring  the  Northern  tribes  over  to  me,  and 
when  I  am  king  of  Israel  you  shall  have  chief 
conmiand  of  the  army." 

So  the  compact  was  made.  David,  with  a  vague 
feeling  that  he  did  not  want  Abner  to  go  immediately 
— with  some  idea  that  he  might  even  yet  find  some 
other  way  of  settling  with  him — ordered  a  sacrifice 
to  Yahweh  and  a  feast  for  the  Israelites.     At  last 


200        DAVID  THE  SON  OF  JESSE 

they  could  be  detained  no  longer.  With  many 
salutations  and  good  wishes  they  bade  farewell, 
and  Abner  and  his  twenty  men  left  the  palace. 

They  had  not  been  gone  long  when  into  the  room 
where  David  was  sitting  alone  burst  the  unceremoni- 
ous Joab.  David  looked  at  him  in  astonishment, 
but  Joab  was  too  excited  and  too  angry  to  be 
checked  by  expressive  looks. 

"What's  this  I  hear,  David?  Is  it  true  Abner 
has  been  to  see  you?  And  have  you  let  him  go 
again?" 

"Yes,  he  has  been — what 's  the  matter  with  you, 
Joab?" 

"Why  did  n't  you  keep  him  till  I  got  back?  You 
know  I  want  his  blood.  ..." 

An  idea — a  possible  solution  of  his  difficulty — 
was  occurring  to  David. 

"Abner  has  been  arranging  to  leave  Ishbaal 
and  to  come  over  to  us.  He  's  such  an  experi- 
enced general  he  '11  be  a  great  asset  for  us,  won't 
he?" 

"Experienced!  experienced  in  losing  battles,  you 
mean.     And  I  suppose  he  's  to  be  set  over  us.  .  .  ." 

"Of  course.  He  's  to  bring  the  Northern  tribes 
over,  too." 

"You  weren't  taken  in  by  all  that,  were  you? 
Of  course  he  only  came  to  spy  on  you.  .  .  ." 


I 


THE  KINGDOM  201 

"I  don't  think  so.  If  you  'd  seen  him  I  think 
he  would  have  convinced  you.  It 's  a  pity  you 
missed  him.  He  's  only  just  gone,  and  he  can't 
have  got  far  yet — he  'd  only  twenty  men  with  him." 

Joab  was  silent — glared  at  David — and  rushed 
out  of  the  room  as  wildly  as  he  had  rushed  in. 

For  a  long  time  David  sat  alone,  pondering  the 
situation.  He  was  beginning  to  wonder  if  he  had 
done  right,  and  to  feel  uncomfortable.  If  anything 
were  to  happen  to  Abner  .  .  .  would  it  not  look 
rather  like  treachery?  Would  he  be  able  to  per- 
suade the  Israelites  that  he  was  innocent?  .  .  .  On 
the  other  hand,  Ishbaal  alone  would  be  easy  enough 
to  deal  with — and  Abner  would  always  have  been 
— be — a  center  of  difficulties.  ...  If  Joab  .  .  . 
took  action — he  would  have  to  be  .prepared  with 
his  own  attitude. 

Presently  he  began  to  hear  sounds  which  sug- 
gested that  something  had  happened.  A  low  mur- 
mur— one  or  two  shrill  cries — an  increased  noise, 
and  a  sudden  hush.  He  pulled  himself  together, 
got  up,  and  went  out  into  the  courtyard.  It  was 
full  of  men  and  women  all  struggling  to  look  at 
something  in  the  middle  of  the  court;  directly  David 
appeared  they  fell  back,  and  he  saw  the  dead  body 
of  Abner  lying  on  its  back,  a  thin  trickle  of  blood 
dripping  from  the  stomach. 


202        DAVID  THE  SON  OF  JESSE 

Chapter  IV 

For  a  moment  David  gazed  without  speaking,  then 
turning  to  the  man  nearest  him  he  said  darkly: 
"How  did  this  happen?  It  is  barely  two  hours 
since  Abner  left  me.  Which  of  you  dared  to  do 
this?" 

There  was  a  silence.  Those  near  David  shuffled 
uncomfortably,  hung  their  heads,  or  looked  at  each 
other  nervously.  At  last  those  in  the  crowd  farthest 
away  began  murmuring,  and  presently,  in  the  mur- 
mur, the  word  Joah  could  be  distinguished. 

"Joab!"  exclaimed  the  king,  suddenly,  "where  is 
Joab?  He  was  with  me  only  a  little  while  ago — 
why  is  he  not  here?" 

Still  nobody  liked  to  answer,  and  David's  eye 
roved  over  the  group  of  onlookers.  It  fell  on  a 
man  he  knew  to  have  been  on  the  foray  with  Joab, 
and  he  singled  him  out  at  once. 

"You — what  is  your  name — son  of  Ahasbai — 
come  out  here — and  answer  me  the  truth.  Who 
killed  Abner?     Was  it  Joab  the  son  of  Zeruiah?" 

"I— I  think  so,  my  lord." 

"But  how  did  it  happen?  Abner  had  left  my 
presence  before  Joab  returned  to  Hebron." 

"My  lord,  I  think  Abner  had  not  left  the  town 


THE  KINGDOM  203 

long  before  Joab  was  in  pursuit  of  him.  He  sent 
Naharai  after  him,  and  Naharai  caught  him  up 
at  the  well  of  Sirah  and  asked  him  to  come  back. 
Joab  met  him  in  the  gate  and  took  him  to  one  side 
to  speak  to  him  and — and — " 

"And  what?     Speak  up,  man." 

"Struck  his  spear  into  Abner's  stomach.  .  .  ." 

"Yes,"  said  a  man  from  the  other  side  of  the 
court,  "and  called  out  as  he  did  it  'So  you  struck 
Asahel,  Benjamite!'  " 

David  glanced  at  the  body  and  then  looked  im- 
patiently around. 

"Will  none  of  you  fetch  Joab?  Must  I  wait 
for  him  all  day?"  But  as  he  spoke  the  throng 
opened  and  Joab  stood  before  him. 

The  two  men  looked  at  each  other — Joab's  face 
still  distorted  by  the  passions  of  revenge  and  jeal- 
ousy that  had  driven  him  to  murder,  David's  feel- 
ings masked  by  an  expression  of  severity  while  his 
eyes  searched  Joab's  to  see  if  his  held  any  tinge 
of  suspicion.     He  saw  none. 

"Did  you  kill  this  man?"  asked  David,  sternly 
and  coldly. 

"I  did,"  was  the  passionate  reply;  "did  not  he 
kill  my  brother  Asahel?" 

"Then  listen  to  me,  all  you  Hebrews,  and  listen 
to  me,  Joab  son  of  Zeruiah.     I  and  my  kingdom 


204        DAVID  THE  SON  OF  JESSE 

are  guiltless  before  Yahweh  forever  of  the  blood 
of  Abner  son  of  Ner;  let  it  fall  upon  the  head  of 
Joab  and  upon  all  his  father's  house.  And  may 
every  one  of  the  house  of  Joab  suffer  from  leprosy 
or  fall  by  the  sword,  or  want  bread — or  may  there 
be  none  but  women." 

While  David  was  speaking,  coldly  yet  with  a 
terrible  fierceness,  Joab's  passion  seemed  to  die 
out.  He  shivered  at  the  dreadful  imprecations  and 
looked  at  David, — white  now — and  apparently  be- 
wildered. 

The  king  turned  from  Joab  and  walked  over 
to  the  body  of  Abner.  Stooping  down,  he  picked 
up  some  dust,  and  throwing  it  over  his  head  spoke 
again:  "A  prince  and  a  great  man  of  Israel  has 
fallen  to-day,  and  to-day  I  am  weak  and  helpless 
though  anointed  king;  for  these  men,  the  sons  of 
Zeruiah,  are  too  hard  for  me — but  Yahweh  will 
reward  the  wicked  doer  according  to  his  wicked- 
ness." 

"So  be  it!"  said  a  voice  in  the  crowd  suddenly. 
David  shivered,  but  nothing  followed. 

His  next  step  was  to  order  the  whole  town  of 
Hebron  to  mourn  for  the  dead  Israelite,  to  rend 
their  clothes,  put  on  sackcloth,  and  make  loud 
lamentations.  He  himself  refused  to  touch  food 
till  the  sun  went  down,  and  followed  the  bier  to  the 


THE  KINGDOM  205 

burial  place.  Then  he  called  for  his  harp  and  sang 
a  dirge: 

Must  Abner  die  as  dies  the  fool? 
Thy  hands  were  not  bound 
Nor  thy  feet  put  into  fetters; 
But  as  a  man  falleth  before  the  children  of  iniquity 
so  didst  thou  fall. 

The  children  of  iniquity — Joab  and  Abishai — were 
obliged  to  mourn  too  for  their  blood  enemy.  Joab 
said  nothing,  but  his  face  still  wore  a  puzzled  ex- 
pression. 


Chapter  V 

When  the  news  of  Abner's  murder  reached  the 
Israelite  tribes  there  came  with  it  the  news  of 
David's  curse  on  Joab  and  the  mourning  of  the 
whole  city  of  Hebron.  The  Israelites,  who  for  so 
many  years  had  suffered  from  the  weakness  of  their 
rulers,  and  had  begun  to  turn  hopeful  eyes  toward 
the  king  of  Judah,  were  eager  to  believe  that  he  had 
no  complicity  in  the  Northern  leader's  death,  and 
accepted  his  explanations  at  their  face  value.  If 
there  were  any  cavilers  who  asked  why  he  had  not 


206        DAVID  THE  SON  OF  JESSE 

punished  the  guilty  man  instead  of  cursing  him, 
they  were  answered  that  Yahweh's  punishment 
would  be  the  worse — or  that,  after  all,  Joab  and 
Abishai  were  the  king's  own  nephews — or  merely 
by  a  shrug  of  the  shoulders.  No  one  wanted  to 
accentuate  any  breach  between  Judah  and  Israel. 

Meanwhile,  what  were  the  relations  between 
David  and  Michal?  Michal  had  not  arrived  at 
Hebron  in  a  very  favorable  mood.  She  was  un- 
happy at  being  torn  away  from  her  home,  her  real 
husband,  and  above  all  from  her  babies.  She  was 
annoyed  at  being  thrust  into  a  harem  where  she  was 
very  far  from  holding  an  important  place,  while  her 
pride  was  wounded  by  the  idea  that  such  a  place  was 
nevertheless  hers  by  right.  If  her  thoughts  of 
David  were  tinged  with  romance,  there  was  also 
among  them  a  flavor  of  embarrassment — she  won- 
dered nervously  how  they  would  meet  after  their 
strange  parting  thirteen  years  ago.  With  all  this 
she  was  not  in  a  state  to  be  a  very  conciliating 
member  of  the  harem.  The  other  women,  instinc- 
tively leagued  together  against  a  newcomer — 
especially  one  who  from  her  history  might  prove  a 
dangerous  rival — received  her  with  scarcely  veiled 
hostility;  to  which  Michal  responded  with  a  sharp 
tongue  which  had  not  been  softened  by  years. 


THE  KINGDOM  207 

When  David  went  into  the  women's  apartments, 
after  the  mourning  for  Abner  was  over,  he  found 
a  general  atmosphere  of  acidity.  Michal  had  some- 
how caused  a  quarrel  between  the  two  little  boys  of 
five  and  six,  Absalom  and  Amnon,  which  had 
naturally  spread  to  their  mothers,  Maacah  and 
Ahinoam;  and  the  disagreement  of  the  latter  had 
only  been  settled  by  a  joint  attack  on  Michal.  It 
was  at  this  moment  that  David  entered.  Absalom 
ran  up  to  him  complaining  that  Amnon  was 
naughty,  to  which  Amnon  replied  by  pouting  out 
his  lower  lip,  pointing  at  Michal,  and  saying: 

"I  don't  like  her." 

David  laughed,  picked  up  both  the  children,  one 
under  each  arm,  and  in  a  few  moments  had  romped 
them  into  good  temper  again.  Michal  stood  silent 
and  disapproving  on  one  side,  and  when  David 
turned  to  her  with  his  brilliant  smile  remarked 
coldly : 

"Well,  of  course,  that 's  one  way  of  bringing  up 
children.  I  'm  thankful  to  say  Paltiel  did  n't  en- 
courage them  to  be  impertinent  by  laughing  at  their 
rudeness — but  I  suppose  things  are  different  in 
Judah." 

The  other  women  stared  at  this  extraordinary 
speech.     David  muttered  something  vague  into  his 


208        DAVID  THE  SON  OF  JESSE 

beard  and  left  the  room.  It  was  evidently  im- 
possible to  gather  up  the  threads  that  he  and  Michal 
had  dropped — at  any  rate  at  that  moment. 

Not  long  after  Abner's  death  Elihu  again  made 
his  appearance  at  Hebron,  but  this  time,  he  an- 
nounced, he  had  come  to  stay. 

"I  'm  getting  old,  David,  and  can't  go  traveling 
about  as  I  used  to  do.  Besides,  I  can't  stand  the 
life  at  Mahanaim." 

"Can't  stand  the  life?  What  do  you  mean, 
Elihu?" 

"Well,  since  Abner  was  killed  the  whole  place 
has  more  or  less  gone  to  ruin.  Ishbaal  can't  do 
anything — he  's  got  nothing  to  pay  any  one  with 
— why,  he  can  hardly  find  enough  to  feed  himself. 
So  naturally  every  one  is  leaving  him.  Why — 
would  you  believe  it! — he's  only  got  a  woman  to 
keep  the  door !  Well,  when  I  saw  that  I  said  to  my- 
self, 'No,  things  have  gone  too  far!  I  might  as 
well  be  in  David's  service  in  Judah,  as  stay  with 
this  Ishbaal  and  his  one  maidservant.'  " 

"And  is  there  no  one  in  command  of  the 
soldiers?" 

"Hm — soldiers !  There  are  two  fellows,  Baanah 
and  Rechab,  sons  of  a  Rimmon,  a  man  of  Beeroth 
— I  believe  they  've  set  themselves  up  in  some  way 


THE  KINGDOM  209 

or  other — ^but  lord,  David,  they  're  poor  trash — 
they  won't  last  long." 

Elihu  was  right. 

A  few  weeks  after  his  account  of  the  decadence 
of  Ishbaal's  court  it  was  announced  to  the  king 
of  Judah  that  two  men  from  Mahanaim  begged  for 
an  audience.  Their  names,  it  appeared,  were 
Baanah  and  Rechab,  and  David,  supposing  that 
they  might  bring  a  message  from  Ishbaal — an 
appeal,  perhaps,  for  protection — ordered  them  to 
be  admitted. 

They  came  into  the  room  where  he  was  sitting 
with  his  advisers,  and  he  decided  at  the  first  glance 
that  he  did  not  like  them.  They  were  rough,  dirty, 
and  down  at  heel;  they  combined  an  air  of  bluster- 
ing swagger  with  cringing  servility,  and  below  it  all 
David  was  certain  they  were  trying  to  conceal  an 
intermittent  panic. 

"Well?"  he  said  coldly  as  they  made  their 
obeisance. 

"The  blessing  of  Yahweh  be  upon  you — "  began 
one  of  the  men,  but  David  cut  him  short. 

"That  is  enough.     Go  on  with  your  message." 

"Message?"  The  man  looked  stupid,  and 
rolled  his  eyes  strangely.  David  shrugged  his 
shoulders. 


210        DAVID  THE  SON  OF  JESSE 

"Well — whatever  it  is  you  came  to  say — out 
with  it." 

The  other  man,  who  had  not  yet  spoken  but 
had  been  standing  awkwardly,  holding  something 
hidden  in  his  clothes,  made  a  rapid  movement  and 
suddenly  flung  at  David's  feet  a  human  head.  His 
counselors  started  back  with  exclamations  of  horror ; 
David  alone  did  not  move  a  muscle,  but  his  eyes 
shone  fiercely. 

"What  is  the  meaning  of  this?"  He  spoke  in 
a  voice  so  low  but  so  menacing  that  the  men 
instinctively  flung  themselves  on  the  ground,  and 
one  of  them  began  a  hasty  explanation. 

"My  lord,  we  were  in  Mahanaim.  And  at  mid- 
day, when  every  one  was  asleep,  we  went  to  Ish- 
baal's  house — ^there  was  no  one  there  except  the  wo- 
man who  keeps  the  door,  and  she  was  asleep  too — 
Ishbaal  was  lying  on  his  bed  in  the  inner  room,  and 
we  killed  him,  and  took  off  his  head." 

David's  face  was  like  adamant,  and  the  miser- 
able man  went  on,  desperately  talking  faster  and 
more  hoarsely  as  his  agony  increased. 

"And  we  have  brought  it  to  my  lord — the  head 
of  Ishbaal,  the  son  of  Saul,  who  tried  to  kill  you; 
to-day  Yahweh  has  avenged  my  lord  the  king  by 
the  death  of  his  enemy's  son." 


THE  KINGDOM  211 

There  was  a  dead  silence  except  for  the  panting 
gasps  of  the  Israelites. 

"And  did  no  one  ever  tell  you,"  said  David  at 
last  slowly  and  relentlessly,  "how  many  years  ago 
when  a  man  came  to  me  at  Ziklag  and  said,  'Saul 
is  dead,'  thinking  to  bring  good  news,  that  the 
reward  I  gave  him  was  to  kill  him?  How  much 
more  shall  I  reward  wicked  men  who  went  into 
an  innocent  person's  house  and  killed  him  on  his 
bed?  Have  you  also  forgotten  that  the  king  is  the 
anointed  of  Yahweh?  And  how  shall  I  teach  this 
lesson  to  you,  men  of  Israel?" 

Suddenly  one  of  the  wretches  began  to  scream, 
crawling  toward  David  and  trying  to  grasp  his 
clothes.  David  recoiled  violently,  pulling  his  robe 
away  with  a  face  of  disgust. 

"Take  them  out,  Abishai,  and  kill  them,"  he 
said,  "cut  off  their  feet  and  hands  and  hang  them 
up  by  the  pool  of  Hebron.  As  for  that" — glancing 
at  the  unfortunate  Ishbaal's  head — "let  it  be  buried 
in  the  grave  of  Abner." 

Three  months  afterward  David  was  anointed 
king  of  Israel. 


212        DAVID  THE  SON  OF  JESSE 

Chapter  VI 

How  little  did  the  giddy  height  to  which  David 
had  climbed  resemble  what  he  had  anticipated  when 
he  had  gazed  at  it  from  below!  For  years  it  had 
seemed  a  pinnacle  beyond  which  there  would  be 
nothing  to  aim  at,  a  resting  place  where  he  could 
take  his  ease  and  enjoy  peace  and  plenty.  To  the 
shepherd  of  Bethlehem  the  king  of  Israel  had 
seemed  a  being  endowed  with  irresistible  power  and 
inexhaustible  wealth,  who  had  nothing  to  do  but 
give  orders  to  others  while  he  reveled  in  the  satis- 
faction of  the  senses,  and  nothing  to  wish  for  since 
all  his  ambitions  were  gratified.  He  could  not  help 
smiling  at  the  childish  conception,  though  how  and 
when  it  had  changed  he  could  hardly  have  told. 
No  doubt  his  sojourn  in  Philistia  had  shown  him 
in  concrete  shape  a  power — wealth — civilization — 
hitherto  unimagined;  but  it  was  rather  what  he 
had  guessed  at  than  what  he  had  seen,  that  had 
served  to  enlighten  him ;  it  was  the  gradual  realiza- 
tion,— still,  it  occurred  to  him,  only  partial, — of 
what  lay  behind  it  all,  that  had  been  his  true  educa- 
tion. Philistia,  rich  and  strong,  was  yet  only  rich 
and  strong  because  through  her  flowed  the  riches 
and  strength  of  other  nations.     Syria — Damascus 


THE  KINGDOM  213 

ardent  with  gold  and  horses,  Phoenicia  with  her 
Tyre  and  Sidon,  queen  of  the  mysterious,  enchant- 
ing, terrible  sea — ^made  him  understand  that  be- 
sides the  Philistia  he  had  seen  and  known  there 
were  many  other  nations  as  great  and  powerful  to 
whom  the  Hebrew  people  were  but  a  group  of  in- 
significant tribes.  But  beyond  these — glimpsed  at, 
divined,  apprehended  perhaps  more  truly  in  his 
dreams  than  by  his  reason — ^lay  south  and  east  the 
tremendous  immemorial  empires  Egypt  and  As- 
syria. Their  caravans  crossed  and  recrossed  before 
his  eyes  on  the  great  road  through  Gaza,  and  his 
thoughts  followed  them  to  the  unseen  splendors 
which  he  surmised  but  could  not  imagine  to  him- 
self. And  so  experience  and  vision  combined  to 
show  him  the  kingdom  of  Judah  and  Israel  as  a 
leaf  on  a  tree,  and  the  world  which  had  once  been 
bounded  by  the  hills  of  Moab  and  the  plains  of 
Philistia  now  stretched  beyond  the  desert — ^beyond 
the  sea — beyond  the  horizon  of  dreams. 

Another  vision  had  come  to  him — the  vision  of 
time.  In  his  stormy  youth  he  had  always  looked 
from  the  dangers  of  the  present  to  a  future  of  his 
own  making  in  which  his  deepest  longings  would 
be  fulfilled  and  his  strangest  fantasies  accomplished. 
Now,  in  the  prime  of  his  age,  his  dreams  of  the 
future  began  to  take  a  new  direction.     He  was  a 


214        DAVID  THE  SON  OF  JESSE 

father.  He  could  not  expect  much  more  than  thirty 
more  years  of  life  for  himself,  but  his  sons,  and 
his  sons'  sons,  and  their  sons  again — why  should 
not  they — and  he  in  them — ^live  forever  and  for- 
ever? And  if  in  thirty  years  he  could  hardly  ex- 
pect to  stretch  his  kingdom  to  conflict  with  the 
shadowy  gigantic  empires  on  the  boundary  of  his 
thought,  yet  in  the  eternity  that  lay  before  his  de- 
scendants why  should  even  Egypt  and  Ass)n-ia  be 
the  ultimate  limit? 

But  for  all  this  the  foundation  must  be  securely 
laid  in  the  present.  And  here  again  was  a  dif- 
ference between  anticipation  and  reality.  Ease  and 
enjoyment  seemed  as  far  from  him  as  when  he  was 
an  outlaw  in  Adullam,  for  if  his  bed  was  softer 
and  his  food  more  plentiful,  his  anxieties  and  re- 
sponsibilities were  a  thousand  times  more  numerous 
and  more  terrible.  Yet,  just  as  in  those  days  his 
physical  dangers  had  always  excited  and  exhila- 
rated him,  so  now  the  problems  of  diplomacy  and 
administration  stimulated  all  his  powers,  and 
thrilled  him  with  a  sense  of  controlling  forces  even 
more  dangerous  than  antagonists  of  flesh  and  blood. 

One  of  the  most  pressing  of  these  problems  was 
the  question  of  the  new  kingdom's  capital.  With 
increasing  clearness  it  was  being  borne  in  upon  him 
that  Hebron  was  not  a  suitable  place  for  the  seat  of 


THE  KINGDOM  215 

administration  and  the  king's  dwelling  place.  Con- 
venient enough  for  the  king  of  Judah,  it  was  too 
far  south  for  a  proper  control  of  Israel,  and  too 
deeply  associated  with  the  tribe  of  Judah  not  to  be 
an  annoyance  to  the  Northern  tribes.  The  choice 
of  Bethlehem,  though  it  lay  further  north,  would, 
as  his  own  birthplace,  give  rise  even  more  surely 
to  Jealousies  and  discontents.  On  the  other  hand, 
a  Northern  capital  would  equally  displease  his  own 
tribe,  and  besides,  what  Northern  town  could  he 
choose?  Bethel,  the  largest  and  most  important, 
was  as  far  north  as  Hebron  was  south,  and  would 
be  too  easy  a  prey  to  any  attacking  force  to  make 
him  override  the  obvious  objections.  He  could 
come  to  no  satisfactory  decision. 

Yet  a  decision  was  urgently  needed.  The 
country  was  by  no  means  in  a  settled  condition. 
Raids  were  constantly  being  made  by  the  outlying 
tribes,  and  even  occasionally  by  those  settlements  of 
Canaanites  which  had  not  been  completely  subdued 
or  absorbed.  The  Jebusites  in  Jerusalem  were 
among  the  most  vexatious  of  these  raiders,  lying  as 
they  did  like  an  island  between  Judah  and  Israel, 
and  commanding  the  trunk  road  that  united  the 
two  kingdoms.  Moreover,  Jerusalem  was  at  the 
head  of  a  pass  into  the  heart  of  Philistia,  and  David, 
I     certain  he  would  soon  have  trouble  from  that  source. 


216        DAVID  THE  SON  OF  JESSE 

was  set  on  himself  holding  every  possible  position 
of  vantage. 

Such  were  the  thoughts  that,  in  the  days  following 
his  anointment  as  king  of  Israel,  pursued  and  per- 
plexed David.  He  was  uneasy  and  restless,  and 
could  not  so  much  as  make  up  his  mind  which  was 
the  most  pressing  matter  to  take  in  hand.  The  ques- 
tion of  the  capital  was  at  bottom  the  most  important, 
yet  after  all  that  decision  could  be  postponed ;  it  was 
the  little  disorders  and  forays,  trifling  as  they  were, 
which  seemed  to  demand  immediate  attention.  Of 
these  disorders  the  raids  of  the  Jebusites  were  the 
most  irritating,  and  gradually  the  irritation  in- 
creased till,  as  is  always  the  case  with  a  sore  place, 
Jerusalem  and  the  Jebusites  seemed  upon  him  at 
every  turn,  forever  interposing  between  himself  and 
all  his  thoughts  of  wider  policy. 

After  weeks  of  vexation  the  solution  came  in  a 
flash.  He  would  settle  one  difficulty  by  means  of 
the  other.  He  would  take  Jerusalem  and  make  it 
the  capital.  The  situation  was  perfect — central,  so 
that  North  and  South  were  equally  accessible, 
neutral,  so  that  there  would  be  no  jealousies  between 
Israel  and  Judah. 

"And  moreover,  Gad,"  he  concluded  when  ex- 
plaining his  project,  "an  unfailing  water  supply!" 

Joab  and  Abishai  were  still  out  of  favor,  but 


THE  KINGDOM  217 

David  felt  he  must  talk  things  over  with  some  one, 
and  had  sent  out  for  Gad  and  Nathan,  a  young 
prophet  who  lived  with  him. 

Gad  stared  at  him  and  his  jaw  fell. 

"But,"  he  protested,  slowly  and  doubtfully,  "the 
town  can't  be  taken — it 's  held  out  against  every 
assault  for  generations.  .  .  ." 

David  roared  with  laughter. 

"Another  advantage!"  he  exclaimed.  "The 
capital  of  my  kingdom  should  be  impregnable! 
What  do  you  say,  Nathan?" 

The  young  man  looked  up  from  the  ground. 

"What  city  is  impregnable  to  the  warriors  of 
Yahweh?     And  if  he  defend  it,  who  shall  take  it?" 

David's  eyes  gleamed  even  more  brightly  than 
before. 

"You  speak  truly,  Nathan,"  he  said,  "for  Yahweh 
is  my  helper." 


Chapter  VII 

David  made  no  delay  in  his  preparations.  The 
next  morning  he  called  a  council  of  his  chief  officers, 
informed  them  of  his  intentions,  and  asked  their 
opinions.     In  cold  blood  the  opinion  of  most  of 


218        DAVID  THE  SON  OF  JESSE 

them  would  have  been  that  the  thing  was  impossible ; 
but  as  described  by  David,  his  mellow  voice  soft 
for  persuasion,  his  blue  eyes  bright  with  eagerness, 
not  one  of  them  could  have  borne  to  suggest  even 
a  difficulty.  They  agreed  that  the  attempt  should 
be  made  at  once,  and  the  fighting  men  of  the  tribes 
summoned. 

"Very  well,"  said  David,  standing  up  to  dissolve 
the  council,  and  smiling  with  delight  at  the  ease 
with  which  he  had  convinced  them,  "I  suppose  your 
men  are  in  good  training,  Benaiah?  But  I  need 
not  ask.  And,  oh," — turning  to  Joab,  with  a  smile 
his  nephew  had  not  seen  for  many  months — "I 
have  decided  to  give  the  command  over  all  the  men 
of  Israel  and  Judah  to  him  who  first  reaches  the 
walls  of  Jerusalem." 

Joab  looked  up  eagerly,  and  stepped  forward. 

"You  mean  that?     Whoever  it  is?" 

"Of  course  I  mean  it,"  answered  David,  in  a 
friendly  voice,  "and  I  have  a  good  guess  who  it 
will  be."  He  put  his  hand  on  Joab's  arm  and  then 
turned  away  to  give  instructions  to  Seraiah  the 
scribe.  But  Joab  was  satisfied;  he  heaved  a  deep 
sigh.  David  was  tired  of  being  angry  with  him, 
and  was  giving  him  this  opportunity  to  regain,  and 
more  than  regain,  his  former  position.  The  proj- 
ect for  the  attack  on  Jerusalem  had  now  no  more 


THE  KINGDOM  219 

ardent  s-upporter  than  Joab  the  son  of  Zeruiah. 

The  news  of  David's  intentions  soon  spread  over 
the  country,  and  could  not  be  concealed  from  the 
Jebusites  themselves.  One  day  David,  coming 
upon  a  group  of  soldiers  disputing  peevishly  but 
with  a  dispirited  air,  stopped  to  listen  to  their  talk. 

"The  man  was  a  liar — he  was  a  shepherd  from 
Tekoa." 

"What  does  that  matter?  What  he  said  was 
true." 

"How  does  he  know  what  the  Jebusites  said? 
Did  they  tell  him?" 

"Yes,  and  told  him  to  come  to  Hebron  with  the 
news." 

"What  news?"  asked  David,  and  the  men  started 
at  the  sudden  appearance  of  the  king  in  their  midst. 

"It  was  a  shepherd  from  Tekoa,"  answered  one 
of  the  men,  nervously,  "and  it  seems  the  Jebusites 
know  we  are  coming  against  them,  and  have  sent 
word  that  the  walls  of  Jerusalem  will  be  strong 
enough  to  keep  us  out,  though  only  the  blind  and 
the  lame  take  arms  against  us." 

"And  it  is  a  true  saying,"  mumbled  another, 
looking  on  the  ground. 

"We  all  know  Jerusalem  cannot  be  taken," 
groaned  a  third — ^but  he  was  at  the  other  edge  of 
the  circle  and  out  of  sight. 


220        DAVID  THE  SON  OF  JESSE 

"A  true  saying!"  David  laughed  so  heartily  that 
the  men  around  him  smiled  almost  involuntarily. 
"It  is  true  enough  that  the  Jebusites  are  all  blind 
and  lame,  and  will  hide  behind  their  walls  when 
we  come  up  against  them,  but  I  doubt  whether  that 
will  save  them  from  our  swords!  It  is  they  who 
tell  you  that  Jerusalem  cannot  be  taken,  but  we 
shall  show  them  something  that  will  surprise  them. 
Could  the  walls  of  Jericho  stand  against  Yahweh? 
And  what  are  the  walls  of  Jerusalem?" 

He  left  them  cheerful  and  confident,  but  it  was 
clear  that  the  more  the  difficulties  were  talked  over 
the  greater  they  would  grow.  As  soon  as  possible 
the  army  marched,  and  the  next  day  David  had  his 
plan  of  attack  ready.  Fired  with  his  own  enthusi- 
asm and  certainty  of  success,  the  Israelites  rushed 
headlong  up  the  stony  water  course  to  the  south  of 
the  citadel.  A  band  of  the  strongest  and  most  reck- 
less, eager  for  the  coveted  post  of  commander,  led 
the  fierce  throng,  but  Joab  outdistanced  them  all; 
and  when  David,  at  the  end  of  the  hot,  triumphant 
day,  saw  the  amazed  and  terrified  Jebusites  escap- 
ing as  fast  as  they  could  over  the  shoulder  of  the 
hill,  he  felt  that  the  pleasure  of  his  victory  was  made 
complete  as  he  joyfully  embraced  his  nephew,  and 
hailed  him  leader  of  all  the  army. 

David    lost    no    time    in    converting    his    new 


THE  KINGDOM  221 

acquisition  into  the  chief  town  of  the  kingdom.  He 
turned  the  Jebusites  out  of  the  citadel,  but  allowed 
them  to  make  houses  on  the  slope  beyond,  and  did 
not  interfere  with  their  worship  of  their  own  Baal. 
The  citadel  itself  he  called  David's  city — it  was  to 
have  no  tribal  connections,  but  was  to  be  a  center 
to  which  Israelites  and  Judeans  alike  could  turn. 
Within  the  citadel  he  arranged  dwelling  places  for 
himself  and  his  family,  his  chief  counselors,  and 
the  Philistine  guard.  Beyond  were  gathered  his 
clients,  any  of  his  tribesmen  who  wished  to  make 
homes  in  the  royal  city,  and  a  few  traders  who 
foresaw  that  it  would  soon  be  an  excellent  center 
for  commerce.  The  military  importance  of  his 
capital  he  reinforced  by  building  around  it  a  forti- 
fication called  Millo,  and  at  the  same  time  he  set 
to  work  on  an  armory  which  should  provide  his 
soldiers  with  as  many  iron  weapons  as  they  required, 
and  perhaps  would  later  on  be  able  to  supply 
battering-rams,  and  other  siege  instruments. 

In  the  midst  of  all  these  activities  an  embassy 
reached  Jerusalem.  It  was  an  embassy  from 
Abibaal,  king  of  Tyre,  sent  to  congratulate  David 
on  his  coming  to  the  throne.  It  was  the  first  of 
such  customary  embassies  to  be  received  by  the  king 
of  Israel,  and  the  recognition  filled  him  with  a  sense 
of  growing  importance — he  was  no  longer  a  mere 


222        DAVID  THE  SON  OF  JESSE 

tribal  chief  but  was  accepted  as  a  king  by  kings. 
He  received  the  ambassadors  with  as  much  pomp 
as  he  could  achieve,  but,  remembering  the  palaces  of 
the  Philistine  rulers,  he  was  ashamed  at  the  mean- 
ness of  his  own  habitation;  and  the  ambassadors 
returned  to  Tyre  with  a  letter  written  by  Seraiah  the 
scribe,  thanking  Abibaal  for  his  good  wishes,  and 
begging  him  to  send  to  Jerusalem  masons,  car- 
penters, and  timber,  so  that  the  king  of  Israel  might 
build  himself  a  house  fit  to  live  in. 


Chapter  VIII 

David  had  hurried  forward  his  military  improve- 
ments from  a  conviction  that  he  would  soon  hear 
from  the  Philistines.  The  time  for  the  payment  of 
his  tribute  had  passed,  and  he  had  sent  no  message, 
black  or  white,  to  Achish,  but  had  merely  pressed 
on  with  his  preparations.  Shortly  after  the  de- 
parture of  the  Tyrians  a  Philistine  envoy  had 
appeared  with  a  letter  to  the  king,  which  Seraiah 
interpreted  for  him. 

"  'Achish,  seren  of  Gath,  greets  his  son  and 
servant,  David,  lord  of  Judah.'  " 

"What!"  exclaimed  David. 


THE  KINGDOM  223 

"So  it  stands — 'lord  of  Judah — and  requires  of 
him  three  things.  First  the  tribute  he  swore  to 
pay,  second  to  pull  down  the  wall  Millo  he  built 
without  permission,  third  to  renounce  the  kingdom 
of  Israel  which  he  took  unrighteously.'  That  is 
all." 

"Is  it  indeed  all?"  said  David;  "three  pretty 
modest  requests! — no,  Seraiah,  you  need  not  pre- 
pare writing  materials — there  is  no  answer.  When 
the  man  is  fed  and  rested  send  him  about  his  busi- 
ness— and  let  Joab  come  to  me  immediately." 

There  was  no  mistaking  the  consequences  of 
such  treatment  of  Achish's  missive,  and  when 
David  heard  of  a  Philistine  army  marching  up  the 
valley  of  the  Sorek  his  plans  were  well  prepared. 
In  plenty  of  time  he  left  Jerusalem  with  his  army 
and  marched  down  to  his  old  fortress  at  Adullam. 
From  there  he  was  in  a  position  to  manceuver  for 
advantageous  ground,  and  for  some  days  the 
Israelites  and  the  Philistines  kept  moving  about 
almost  within  reach  of  each  other,  yet  never  coming 
to  grips.  At  last  news  reached  the  Israelites  that 
their  enemies  had  won  the  first  advantage,  and 
seized  Bethlehem.  David  ground  his  teeth,  but 
would  not  agree  to  the  clamor  of  the  hot-heads  who 
cried  out  for  an  immediate  assault.  He  moved  his 
men  north,  and  posted  double  sentinels. 


224        DAVID  THE  SON  OF  JESSE 

It  had  been  a  wearisome  day  of  heavy  marching 
and  hard  work  in  which  David  had  taken  his  share. 
The  water  bottles  had  all  been  emptied,  and  the 
wady  on  which  he  had  relied  for  filling  them  had 
run  dry.  When  he  had  made  sure  that  the  camp 
was  safe  he  turned  back  to  the  fire  round  which  his 
officers  were  sitting  and  flung  himself  on  the  ground 
with  a  sigh. 

"I  suppose  they  have  been  watering  a  flock  of 
sheep  higher  up  the  valley,"  Abishai  was  saying, 
and  David  agreed  wearily. 

"Well,"  said  Shammah  the  Harodite,  one  of  the 
chief  officers,  "the  water  in  these  streams  is  never 
anything  but  muddy,  at  the  best  of  times — it 's  no 
great  loss." 

The  others  laughed  ruefully,  and  Elhanan  broke 
out: 

"To  my  taste  the  sweetest  water  in  the  world  is 
the  water  I  drink  in  camp  after  a  day  of  march- 
ing, however  muddy  the  stream  from  which  it 
comes ! " 

"Ah,"  said  David,  who  had  hardly  been  listening 
to  the  talk,  "the  sweetest  water  in  the  world  comes 
from  the  well  of  Bethlehem,  by  the  gate.  Is  n't  it 
cool  and  sparkling,  Abishai  ?"  He  laughed,  twisted 
his  cloak  around  him,  and  went  off  to  his  tent. 

The  three  men  who  had  been  talking  looked  at 


THE  KINGDOM  225 

each  other  in  silence  for  a  moment.  Then  Sham- 
mah  spoke  in  a  low  voice : 

"How  far  is  it  to  Bethlehem,  Abishai?" 

"Not  more  than  six  miles." 

"We  could  go  there  and  back  in  four  hours," 
whispered  Elhanan.     Abishai  stared. 

"You  're  not  thinking  of  it — "  he  exclaimed — 
"the  Philistines—" 

"That  for  the  Philistines,"  said  Shammah, 
cracking  his  fingers.  "If  David  wants  something 
I  can  get  him,  a  set  of  uncircumcised  fish  worshipers 
won't  stop  me." 

"Come  on,  Abishai,"  said  Elhanan;  "you  know 
the  ground  best."  And  Abishai  shrugged  his 
shoulders  and  picked  up  a  water  bottle. 

When  David  could  not  sleep  he  often  amused 
himself  with  a  small  harp  which  took  up  little  space 
in  the  baggage  and  from  which  he  was  seldom 
parted.  That  night  he  was  striking  the  strings, 
almost  in  a  dream,  when  the  tent  was  pulled  open 
and  three  men  entered.  Instantly  he  was  on  his 
feet,  and  almost  as  quickly  recognized  Abishai. 

"Is  anything  the  matter?"  he  asked  anxiously. 

Shammah  stepped  forward  holding  out  a  water 
bottle,  and  said  rather  sheepishly: 

"We  've  brought  you  this,  David." 


226        DAVID  THE  SON  OF  JESSE 

David  took  the  bottle,  and  gazed  at  them  for  an 
explanation. 

"It 's  water  from  the  well  of  Bethlehem," 
muttered  Abishai;  and  Elhanan,  seeing  the  king 
still  look  bewildered,  finished  the  story: 

"You  said  you  wanted  some,  so  we  fetched  it." 

For  a  moment  there  was  silence;  then  the  blood 
rushed  into  David's  face  and  he  drew  a  deep  breath. 

"You  broke  through  the  Philistines'  camp  to 
bring  me  this  water!  What  should  I  have  done  if 
they  had  killed  you!  This  is  not  water  that  you 
have  brought  me,  but  your  own  blood.  Shall  I 
drink  the  blood  of  men  who  went  in  jeopardy  for 
me?  The  blood  belongs  to  Yahweh,  and  to  Yahweh 
will  I  pour  it  out ! " 

He  raised  his  arms  and  eyes  and  then  dashed 
the  water  on  the  ground.  Shammah  and  Elhanan 
as  they  left  the  tent  felt  that  their  gift  had  formed 
part  of  some  wonderful  sacrificial  ceremony;  they 
did  not  quite  understand  what  the  king  had  meant, 
but  that  made  the  honor  he  had  done  them  the  more 
overwhelming.  As  Abishai  came  behind  them  they 
heard  him  muttering : 

"I  would  n't  have  gone  for  it  if  I  'd  known  he 
was  going  to  throw  it  on  the  ground.  .  .  ." 


THE  KINGDOM  227 

Chapter  IX 

The  next  day  David  caught  the  Philistines  at  a 
disadvantage  and  forced  them  to  give  battle.  Just 
before  they  began  the  attack  one  of  David's  old 
followers  told  him  that  the  Philistines  had  brought 
their  gods  into  the  fight,  and  that  would,  of  course, 
be  a  great  help  to  them. 

"I  wish,"  he  added,  "we  could  have  brought 
Yahweh  with  us." 

"What  do  you  mean?"  asked  David,  curiously, 
"do  you  mean  the  sacred  lot?" 

"Oh,  no,"  answered  the  man,  "I  meant  Yahweh 
himself.  They  used  to  take  him  into  battle  in  the 
old  days,  but  once  the  Philistines  captured  him,  and 
since  then  he  's  been  kept  in  Philistia." 

David  had  no  time  to  pursue  the  subject,  but 
he  determined  that  later  on  he  would  question  Gad 
or  Nathan  about  it — they  would  be  sure  to  know. 

The  battle  was  a  complete  victory  for  the 
Israelites.  The  gods  of  the  Philistines  were  seized 
and  the  Philistines  fled  in  disorder  down  to  the 
plain.  The  one  moment  of  anxiety  for  the  Israelites 
had  been  when  David,  impetuously  rushing  into  the 
hottest  part  of  the  fray,  had  only  been  saved  by 
Abishai's  help,  from  the  sword  of  a  gigantic  Philis- 


228        DAVID  THE  SON  OF  JESSE 

tine.  The  Israelite  officers,  who  fully  realized  the 
importance  of  David's  safety,  implored  him  to  swear 
a  solemn  oath  never  to  go  into  battle  again,  but 
David  only  laughed  at  them,  and  said  he  would  see. 

The  campaign  against  the  Philistines  was  not 
yet  ended.  Again,  later  in  the  same  year,  they 
marched  up  the  valley  of  the  Sorek,  and  pitched 
at  its  head  in  the  valley  of  Rephaim.  It  was  then 
that  David  carried  out  against  them  a  tactical 
scheme  which  he  had  long  pondered,  and  which 
was  so  daring  and  novel  that  he  felt  obliged  to  get 
the  support  of  Yahweh  before  he  dared  attempt  it. 

"Do  not  attack  them  from  the  front,"  Yahweh 
said;  "make  a  circuit  behind  them,  and  attack  them 
by  the  mulberry  trees.  When  the  spirits  of  the 
mulberry  trees  begin  to  march,  then  march  too,  for 
then  is  Yahweh  gone  forth  to  smite  the  Philistines." 

The  valley  of  Rephaim  lay  to  the  west  of  Jerusa- 
lem, and  the  mulberry  grove  was  on  the  enemy's 
right  wing.  Yahweh's  instructions  meant,  there- 
fore, that  David  was  to  leave  Jerusalem  secretly, 
and  to  wind  round  south,  west,  and  north  so  as  to 
cut  off  the  rear  of  the  Philistines.  He  could  obvi- 
ously not  take  the  whole  army  in  this  way — Joab 
was  to  be  left  behind  with  the  bulk  of  the  Israelites, 
while  David,  Benaiah,  and  a  picked  section  of  the 
Philistine  guards  were  to  attempt  the  turning  move- 


THE  KINGDOM  229 

ment.  The  army  was  thus  divided,  David  cut  off 
from  his  base,  and  Jerusalem  but  weakly  defended 
by  the  depleted  Joab.  The  doubts  and  protests  of 
the  old  soldiers  were  only  silenced  by  the  fact  that 
the  instructions  had  come  direct  from  Yahweb 
himself. 

At  night  David,  Benaiah,  and  the  guard  set  off. 
Under  cover  of  darkness  they  reached  their  ap- 
pointed place  behind  the  unsuspicious  Philistines. 
At  dawn  Joab  was  to  occupy  the  enemy  by  an 
apparent  frontal  attack  with  his  archers  and 
slingers;  and  at  dawn  the  breeze,  which  comes  so 
often  in  the  East  when  the  day  is  breaking,  began 
to  blow. 

"Listen!"  whispered  David  to  his  followers, 
who  for  an  hour  now  had  been  straining  at  the 
leash.  "Listen!  is  not  that  a  sound  of  spirits  in  the 
trees?  They  are  whispering,  assembling,  stepping 
eastward !      Come !  for  Yahweh  is  gone  before  us ! " 

This  time  the  rout  of  the  Philistines  was  over- 
whelming. For  miles  the  Israelites  pursued  them 
northward,  and  the  number  that  escaped  was  but 
a  small  fraction.  But  David  was  not  satisfied 
with  the  knowledge  that  there  would  be  no  more 
attacks  from  his  old  enemies  for  many  months;  he 
was  determined  to  settle  with  them  once  and  for  all. 
Now  it  was  his  turn  to  be  the  invader;  and  so  well 


230        DAVID  THE  SON  OF  JESSE 

had  he  prepared  for  the  task  he  had  set  himself  that 
after  a  few  campaigns  Gath  was  in  his  hands,  and 
the  Philistines — themselves  almost  incredulous  of 
the  completeness  of  their  downfall — reduced  to  pay 
tribute  to  the  king  of  Israel.  Nor  did  they  ever 
again  become  a  menace  to  their  Hebrew  victors. 


Chapter  X 

David  had  fastened  a  row  of  captured  Philistine 
gods  to  the  wall  of  his  house  and  was  looking  at 
them  curiously.  Seeing  Nathan  pass  by,  he  re- 
membered what  the  soldier  had  told  him  of  the  old 
custom  of  taking  Yahweh  into  battle,  and  called  to 
the  prophet  to  come  over  to  him. 

"They  can't  do  any  harm  now,  can  they?"  he 
asked,  pointing  to  his  prisoners;  and  Nathan  agreed 
this  was  impossible. 

"Why  shouldn't  we  take  Yahweh  into  battle,  as 
the  Philistines  take  Dagon?"  continued  David; 
"some  one  told  me  we  used  to  in  former  days;  why 
don't  we  now?     Have  we  a  Yahweh  like  that?" 

"Not  like  that,''^  replied  Nathan,  scornfully. 

"Well,"  said  David,  "I  've  been  thinking  about 
it,  and  it  seems  to  me  it 's  a  pity  we  can't  take  our 


THE  KINGDOM  231 

god  into  battle  with  us,  as  other  nations  do.  You 
see,  we  who  are  the  people  of  Yahweh  make  war 
for  him,  and  he  fights  for  us.  The  whole  business 
of  war  belongs  to  him,  and  is  set  apart,  as  Samuel 
used  to  say,  like  everything  else  connected  with  him. 
Even  the  men  who  fight  are  set  apart,  and  may  not 
touch  many  things,  or  go  into  their  women  while  a 
campaign  lasts.  We  make  sacrifices  to  Yahweh 
before  a  battle,  and  if  he  leads  us,  it  would  be  better 
if  we  had  him  there  in  the  midst  of  us  and  could 
see  his  face." 

"Ah,"  said  Nathan,  slowly,  looking  at  David 
with  a  thoughtful  air  as  if  wondering  whether  he 
would  say  all  that  was  in  his  mind,  "there  is  a 
good  deal  in  what  you  say.  Now,  I  dare  say  you  've 
heard  that  Yahweh  led  our  race  out  of  Egypt  and 
showed  us  the  way  through  the  desert  to  this  land 
we  live  in  now.  In  those  days  the  children  of 
Israel  had  Yahweh  in  the  midst  of  them — ^but  not  in 
that  kind  of  shape — "  sneering  at  the  images  on 
the  wall. 

"How  then?"  asked  David,  eagerly. 

"Well,  it  is  the  Ark— a  chest— that  is  the  Pres- 
ence of  Yahweh."  Nathan  lowered  his  voice  and 
looked  uneasy.  He  was  decidedly  uncomfortable 
at  talking  about  such  things,  but  certainly  the  king 
ought  to  know. 


232        DAVID  THE  SON  OF  JESSE 

"The  Ark?"  David  pondered  for  some  time. 
He,  too,  felt  the  insecurity  of  the  topic,  and  his 
heart  was  beating  with  unpleasant  violence;  still, 
he  was  determined  to  probe  the  question  as  far  as 
possible.  "I  have  an  idea  the  Philistines  had  it — 
they  took  it  from  us — I  don't  remember  exactly 
how.  .  .  .» 

"Yes,"  said  Nathan,  gloomily.  "The  Israelites 
took  the  Ark  into  battle,  but  the  Philistines  de- 
feated them  and  seized  it.  That  was  years  ago, 
when  Samuel  was  a  child.  The  Philistines  took 
it  to  Ashdod  and  Yahweh  brought  illness  and  death 
to  the  men  of  Ashdod;  then  they  took  him  to  Gath 
and  he  brought  death  to  the  Gittites.  At  last  they 
took  him  out  of  Philistia  and  placed  him  in  Kiri- 
ath-Jearim,  for  that  was  outside  their  own  territory, 
yet  the  Canaanites  who  lived  there  paid  them  tri- 
bute, and  would  not  let  the  Israelites  take  the  Ark 
back." 

"You  see,"  exclaimed  David,  "how  important  it 
would  be  to  us.  Even  when  our  enemies  had  it 
prisoner  it  brought  them  ruin.  .  .  ." 

"I  know,"  replied  Nathan,  with  some  hesitation, 
"but  the  Presence  of  Yahweh  will  bring  ruin  to 
any  one  who  approaches  it  without  due  precaution 
— enemy  or  worshiper — it  is  set  apart." 

"Of    course.     Still,    the    Presence    of    Yahweh 


THE  KINGDOM  233 

should  be  with  the  people  of  Yahweh — in  their 
chief  city — here,  in  Jerusalem.  Think,  Nathan, 
what  preeminence  it  will  give  to  the  place — the 
royal  city — if  it  is  also  the  sanctuary  of  the  Ark. 
All  the  tribes  will  unite  to  come  up  here  in  worship, 
and  all  will  recognize  this  as  the  holiest  place  of 
all.  Perhaps  the  Tyrian  builders  could  make  a 
house  for  Yahweh — a  glorious  house  of  cedar  wood, 
like  the  one  they  are  building  for  me!  Would  not 
that  be  splendid,  Nathan?  As  for  these  men  of 
Kiriath-Jearim,  they  will  not  now  hold  back  from 
me  anything  I  want." 

In  this  David  was  certainly  right.  Abinadab, 
the  Canaanite  in  whose  house  the  Ark  had  been 
placed,  instantly  agreed  to  deliver  it  up,  and  prom- 
ised to  send  it  away  on  a  new  cart.  The  king 
ordered  a  national  holiday,  and  went  out  to  Keriath- 
Jearim  in  procession,  accompanied  by  his  chief 
officers,  Abiathar  the  priest,  the  prophets,  and  a 
group  of  minstrels  with  harps  and  timbrels.  David 
walked  at  the  head  of  them,  lost  in  an  enchanting 
dream.  He  saw  the  Ark  brought  to  Jerusalem,  a 
superb  and  astonishing  temple  built  for  it  to  which 
all  the  tribes  came  streaming  up — deserting  their 
own  high  places,  and  recognizing  that  in  the  city 
of  David  alone  was  Yahweh  truly  to  be  found. 

"And  when  my  kingdom  has  spread  far  and 


234        DAVID  THE  SON  OF  JESSE 

wide — even  beyond  Jordan — the  heathen,  too,  will 
hear  of  the  fame  of  my  temple  and  come — perhaps 
from  over  the  Great  Sea — to  gaze  at  its  outer  court, 
beyond  which  they  must  not  step." 

He  woke  up  with  a  start,  to  find  himself  outside 
Abinadab's  house.  A  new  cart  harnessed  to  two 
milk-white  oxen  stood  at  the  door,  and  on  it  was 
a  wooden  chest.  All  the  people  of  the  town  seemed 
to  be  standing  around,  and  Abinadab  was  bowing 
and  touching  his  head  in  an  ecstasy  of  salutation. 

"Never  yet  under  the  yoke,  my  lord,"  David 
heard  him  say,  "and  my  two  sons,  Uzzah  and  Ahio 
—make  your  duties  to  his  lordship,  boys,  make 
your  duties — will  lead  them  down  the  hill." 

Two  young,  rosy-cheeked  youths  standing  at  the 
oxen's  head  grinned  and  bowed  sheepishly.  David 
smiled  at  them,  thanked  Abinadab  for  his  kindness, 
and  ordered  the  procession  to  turn  toward  Jeru- 
salem and  to  start. 

And  now,  as  they  plodded  along  the  rough  track, 
the  excited  worshipers  kept  circling  around  the  cart 
and  its  holy  burden,  singing,  clapping  their  hands, 
prostrating  themselves,  calling  out  to  the  Canaanite 
youths  to  be  careful,  for  Yahweh  the  god  of  the 
Israelites  was  not  to  be  trifled  with.  Presently 
they  came  to  a  village  where  the  ruts  in  the  track 
got  deeper  and  more  stony.     Suddenly  the  oxen 


THE  KINGDOM  235 

stumbled,  the  wheel  of  the  cart  jerked  up  on  to  a 
bit  of  rock,  the  cart  tilted,  and  the  Ark  began  to  slip. 
A  shout  went  up  from  the  Israelites,  and  Uzzah, 
who  was  on  that  side,  turned  his  head,  and  seeing 
the  chest  on  the  edge  of  the  cart  quickly  pushed  it 
back  into  safety.  A  groan  burst  from  the  onlookers, 
and  the  kaleidoscopic  crowd  turned  to  stone. 

"What  is  it?"  asked  David,  coming  quickly  up 
with  Nathan  and  Abiathar  to  see  what  had  hap- 
pened. 

"He  touched — he  touched  the  Holy  One — ^he 
pushed  the  Ark,"  cried  a  hundred  voices,  pointing 
at  the  unfortunate  Uzzah,  who  was  standing  dazed 
and  white  by  the  cart. 

"Touched  it!  Unhappy  wretch,"  cried  Nathan, 
pulling  away  the  skirt  of  his  dress  from  contact 
with  the  wheel. 

"Beware  of  the  anger  of  Yahweh,"  exclaimed 
Abiathar,  and  Uzzah  began  to  groan  and  tremble. 

Instantly  the  voices  of  the  Israelites  were  raised 
in  vindictive  yells  at  the  Canaanite,  who  looked 
around  him  for  help  in  vain — at  the  first  cry  Ahio 
had  fled  to  safety. 

"Yahweh  will  strike — ^why  touch  the  Holy  One? 
— the  Ark  of  Yahweh  will  slay — the  plague  will 
smite  him — death  will  take  him — there  is  no  escape 
from  Yahweh." 


236        DAVID  THE  SON  OF  JESSE 

Uzzah  fell  to  the  ground — his  knees  would  not 
hold  him  up.  The  cries  of  the  Israelites  redoubled 
— there  was  a  roaring  in  his  ears — ^the  voice  of  the 
terrible  Yahweh  shouting  in  his  might — and  the 
bow  snapped. 

"He  is  dead,"  said  Abiathar  raising  himself  from 
the  fallen  body  over  which  he  had  been  stooping. 
"He  should  have  known  better  than  to  lay  his  hand 
upon  the  Ark." 


Chapter  XI 

The  servants  of  the  king's  household  trod  lightly 
that  night,  for  the  king  was  not  in  an  agreeable 
mood.  He  was  displeased  with  Yahweh,  and,  be- 
sides, a  little  frightened.  Everything  had  seemed 
to  be  going  so  well — the  triumphal  entry  of  Yah- 
weh escorted  by  himself  into  the  royal  city  would 
have  been  such  a  glorious  moment — and  then  sud- 
denly horror,  death,  failure.  He  had  been  stunned 
by  the  catastrophe.  No  one  had  known  what  to  do 
with  the  cart  and  its  fearful  load;  the  villagers 
and  the  rejoicing  Israelites  had  fled  in  terror  when 
it  became  certain  that  Uzzah  was  dead,  and  it  was 
only  after  a  long  time  that  Abiathar  had  found  a 


THE  KINGDOM  237 

Gittite  named  Obed-Edom,  who  lived  in  the  neigh- 
borhood, and  was  willing  to  harbor  the  Ark  until 
its  final  destination  could  be  decided.  David  re- 
turned gloomily  to  Jerusalem,  and  his  people  spoke 
to  each  other  in  hushed  whispers. 

But  it  was  not  in  David's  nature  to  be  long  down- 
cast. He  soon  began  to  see  the  other  side  of  things, 
to  feel  the  return  swing  of  the  pendulum.  After 
all  what  did  it  show  but  that  Yahweh  must  be 
treated  ceremoniously?  If  only  the  proper  pre- 
cautions had  been  taken  nothing  would  have  .hap- 
pened— it  was  the  necessary  result  of  carelessness 
and  inattention.  Besides,  it  showed  the  terrific 
strength  of  the  god  of  Israel,  and  could  in  the  end 
only  redound  to  the  credit  of  his  worshipers.  Next 
time  things  should  be  better  managed  and  then  there 
would  be  no  trouble. 

After  a  time  David  began  to  make  enquiries  as 
to  how  things  were  going  with  Obed-Edom — 
whether  he  and  his  family  were  in  good  health, 
whether  his  crops  were  prospering — and  it  appeared 
that  all  went  well.  It  was  evident  that  there  were 
no  more  fearful  emanations  from  the  Ark,  and  the 
time  seemed  propitious  for  making  another  at- 
tempt to  bring  it  up  to  the  city.  Much  more  elab- 
orate arrangements  were  made  this  time.  A  tent, 
with  curtains,  was  pitched  in  the  middle  of  the 


238        DAVID  THE  SON  OF  JESSE 

citadel  for  its  reception  when  it  should  arrive; 
David  himself  put  on  a  loose  linen  dress  that  hung 
straight  from  his  shoulders — a  dress  such  as  was 
worn  by  the  priests — and  went  down  with  all  his 
servants  to  Obed-Edom's  house.  Instead  of  a  cart 
and  oxen,  poles  had  been  brought,  and  Abiathar 
instructed  four  priests  to  lift  the  Ark  with  these, 
and  so  to  carry  it.  While  it  was  being  raised  there 
was  an  anxious  hush;  David,  pale  with  suspense, 
watched  them  hoist  the  poles  to  their  shoulders, 
steady  them,  and  begin  a  slow  and  stately  walk  up 
the  hill.  After  six  steps,  all  seemed  well,  and 
David,  with  a  sigh  of  relief  turned  to  Abiathar. 
The  priest  nodded,  and  David  sacrificed  there  by 
the  wayside  an  ox  and  a  fat  sheep.  Everything 
was  satisfactory.  The  country  people  clamored  up- 
roariously as  they  carried  away  their  share  of  the 
sacrifice,  the  musicians  blew  on  their  trumpets,  the 
people  shouted,  waving  green  branches  and  leap- 
ing and  running.  David  was  soon  carried  away 
by  the  contagious  emotion  around  him.  He  rushed 
to  the  head  of  the  procession  as  it  entered  Jerusalem 
and  whirled  and  bounded  in  the  air  in  front  of  the 
Ark,  bowing  to  the  ground,  springing  up,  jumping 
around  it,  throwing  himself  into  the  fervor  of  adora- 
tion with  all  his  might.  As  they  passed  by  his  own 
house  he  looked  up.     At  the  window  of  the  room 


THE  KINGDOM  239 

on  the  upper  story  stood  Michal,  surveying  the 
wild  scene  with  cold  contempt.  David  caught  her 
eye;  she  flung  back  her  head  with  a  short  laugh 
and  disappeared  from  the  window.  David's  dance 
was  finished. 

The  Ark  was  now  placed  in  the  tent  and  two 
priests  were  placed  on  guard  outside  it.  The  king 
again  made  sacrifices,  and  all  the  Israelites  who 
had  assembled  were  summoned  to  receive  from  his 
officers  a  loaf,  a  cake  of  raisins,  and  a  portion  of 
date-wine.  Then  a  long  hush  came  over  the  ex- 
cited crowd.  David  raised  his  arms,  and  his  clear 
sweet  voice  rang  over  his  people  with  the  words  of 
the  ancient  blessing  of  Aaron: 

The  Lord  bless  thee  and  keep  thee: 

The  Lord  make  his  face  to  shine  upon  thee  and  be  gracious 

unto  thee: 
The  Lord  lift  up  his  countenance  upon  thee  and  give  thee 

peace. 

It  was  getting  dark.  The  people  moved  quietly 
away  and  David,  tired  with  his  emotions  and  ex- 
ertions, climbed  slowly  up  the  steps  of  his  house, 
in  the  courtyard  of  which  stood  his  own  household. 
His  back  had  been  turned  to  them  while  he  blessed 
the  people  without,  and  one  of  the  servants  ran 
up  to  him  and  kissed  his  feet. 


240        DAVID  THE  SON  OF  JESSE 

"Bless  us  too,  O  my  lord,"  he  cried,  and  a  mur- 
mur from  the  others  echoed  his  wish.  David 
smiled  and  was  raising  his  hand  when  through  the 
crowd  pressed  a  woman.  It  was  Michal,  her  eyes 
glowing  and  her  cheek  flushed;  she  came  quickly 
up  to  David,  touching  her  forehead  and  bending 
her  head  as  if  in  greeting,  but  he  saw  at  once  that 
she  was  full  of  irrepressible  mockery. 

"How  glorious  was  the  king  of  Israel  to-day!" 
she  exclaimed  in  a  loud  voice;  and  David  stared 
at  her  without  answering.  She  lowered  her  voice 
and  continued: 

"Indeed,  it  well  becomes  a  king  to  expose  him- 
self to  the  women  servants  of  his  house  as  you 
have  done  to-day,"  and  she  pointed  at  his  light, 
loose  robe,  and  laughed  contemptuously. 

David  flushed  as  much  with  anger  as  with  shame, 
and  his  eyes  darkened.  "It  was  to  the  Lord  that 
I  exposed  myself,  as  you  call  it;  and  he  who  chose 
me  to  be  king  instead  of  your  father  knows  better 
than  you  what  becomes  a  king.  And  you  need  not 
fear  that  the  women  servants  will  not  hold  me  in 
honor." 

Forgetting  the  servants  and  the  blessing  they  were 
waiting  for,  he  strode  through  the  courtyard,  and 
hid  himself  in  an  inner  chamber. 


THE  KINGDOM  241 

Chapter  XII 

David  wondered  how  he  could  ever  have  thought 
Michal  beautiful.  Now  that  the  bloom  of  early 
youth  had  disappeared  one  could  see  so  plainly  that 
her  features  were  uninteresting  and  her  expression 
acid.  As  for  her  tongue  .  ,  .  well,  it  had  all  been 
a  great  mistake,  but  his  eyes  were  open  now,  and 
his  relations  with  her  at  an  end  for  ever.  What 
were  the  feelings  of  the  woman,  bom  a  princess, 
torn  first  from  her  bridegroom,  then  from  her  hus- 
band and  children,  thrust  into  a  hostile  household 
of  foreign  women,  and  at  last  deserted  and  dis- 
honored, he  neither  considered  nor  cared.  The 
whole  thought  of  her  was  hateful  to  him,  and  he 
dismissed  it  from  his  mind. 

The  pleasantest  associations  of  his  domestic  life 
were  connected  with  his  children,  and  in  particular 
his  little  boys.  The  two  eldest,  Amnon  and  Ab- 
salom, were  beautiful,  strong,  intelligent,  and  full 
of  eager  vitality.  David  was  always  amused  at 
their  quarrels  and  games,  and  pleased  by  their  cour- 
age and  emulation  in  physical  feats;  they  seemed 
to  him  so  like  what  he  himself  had  been  as  a  child, 
yet  so  much  more  lovely,  charming,  and  vigorous, 
that  he  felt  they  would  be  able  to  carry  out  all  that 


242        DAVID  THE  SON  OF  JESSE 

he  left  unaccomplished,  to  embark  on  all  he  had 
no  time  to  attempt. 

All  this,  however,  only  if  they  grew  to  be  men, 
and  were  able  to  inherit  his  kingdom.  He  was 
constantly  haunted  by  the  recollection  of  how  his 
inheritance  had  been  snatched  from  Jonathan,  and 
an  unreasoning  dread  lest  some  one  of  Saul's  house 
should  play  the  same  trick  on  Amnon.  There 
were  still  two  sons  of  Saul  alive,  somewhere  on  the 
east  of  the  Jordan,  and  he  had  an  idea  that  Merab 
had  some  children.  Any  one  of  them  might  easily 
come  forward  and  claim  the  kingdom,  and  if  any- 
thing untoward  should  happen  to  him,  what 
would  become  of  the  two  little  boys? 

Meanwhile  most  of  his  attention  was  taken  up 
with  affairs  of  state.  Having  reduced  the  Philis- 
tines to  impotence,  he  turned  to  put  an  end  to  the 
incursions  of  the.  Edomites,  and  a  little  later  en- 
tered on  a  war  of  extermination  against  Moab. 
These  wars,  however,  he  did  not  conduct  in  person; 
Abishai  led  the  army  against  Edom,  and  Benaiah 
against  the  Moabites.  David  himself  was  fully  oc- 
cupied at  the  center  of  affairs,  administering  justice, 
levying  taxes,  sending  supplies  to  those  in  the  field. 
A  series  of  bad  harvests  added  to  his  difficulties, 
and  the  shortage  at  last  became  so  great  that  it 
amounted  to  a  famine. 


THE  KINGDOM  243 

In  the  midst  of  these  harassing  conditions  news 
reached  him  of  discontent  among  the  cities  of  the 
Gibeonite  league.  They  formed  a  group  of  Ca- 
naanites  with  whom  the  Israelites  had  made  a  treaty 
in  the  early  days  of  their  entry  into  Palestine,  and 
who  ever  since  had  held  a  privileged  position  in 
relation  to  the  Israelites.  At  this  particular  moment 
any  trouble  from  them  would  be  a  serious  handicap, 
and  it  seemed  essential  to  deal  with  them  by  di- 
plomacy rather  than  force. 

The  first  necessity  was  to  discover  the  cause  of 
the  Gibeonites'  hostility.  It  appeared  that  they 
were  still  resenting  the  action  of  Saul,  toward  the 
end  of  his  reign,  in  putting  to  death  some  of  the 
inhabitants  of  Beeroth,  one  of  the  cities  of  the 
league.  David  thought  long  and  deeply  over  this, 
and  at  last  determined  to  try  his  old  trick  of  mak- 
ing his  difficulties  solve  each  other. 

In  a  solemn  assembly  of  his  chief  officers  Abia- 
thar  was  instructed  to  consult  Yahweh  as  to  the 
cause  of  the  increasing  scarcity. 

"Upon  Saul  and  upon  his  house  rests  the  guilt 
of  blood,"  answered  the  oracle,  "because  he  put 
to  death  the  Gibeonites."  The  treaty  with  the 
Gibeonite  league  had,  of  course,  been  made  before 
Yahweh,  and  it  was  inevitable  that  his  anger  should 
be  aroused  when  it  was  violated.     At  the  advice  of 


244        DAVID  THE  SON  OF  JESSE 

his  council  David  invited  a  deputation  of  Gibeon- 
ites  to  come  up  to  Jerusalem  that  he  might  hear 
what  they  had  to  say.  When  they  arrived  he  re- 
ceived them  with  great  graciousness,  and  at  once 
made  them  feel  that  they  might  with  impunity  ask 
for  what  they  wanted. 

"What  shall  I  do  for  you?"  asked  the  king,  be- 
fore all  his  councilors.  "How  can  I  atone  for  what 
has  been  done  wrong,  so  that  you  may  once  more 
be  on  friendly  terms  with  the  people  of  Israel?" 

"My  lord,"  answered  the  Gibeonite  spokesman, 
"there  is  no  question  of  bloodmoney  between  us 
and  Saul  or  his  house;  neither  is  it  for  us  who  are 
Canaanites  to  execute  a  blood  revenge  against  the 
Israelites.  .  .  ."  He  paused ;  he  had  evidently  not 
said  all  that  was  in  his  mind. 

"True,"  said  David,  leaning  forward,  and  speak- 
ing with  solemn  emphasis.  "True;  it  is  for  their 
king  to  execute  judgment  upon  them.  Do  you  there- 
fore tell  me  what  it  is  you  want,  and  I  will  do  it 
for  you." 

The  Gibeonites  glanced  at  each  other  and  his 
companions  nodded  gently  to  their  spokesman. 
"Give  us  those  that  remain  of  the  house  of  Saul 
and  we  will  impale  them  in  Gibeon  at  the  high  place 
— the  place  of  sacrifice  to  Yahweh."  They  could 
not  believe  that  the  king  would  grant  them  such  a 


THE  KINGDOM  245 

request,  but  had  come  up  obstinately  determined  to 
accept  nothing  else;  surprise  and  gratification 
struggled  for  supremacy  in  their  hearts  when  David 
rose  in  his  place  and  answered  them  gravely: 

"In  the  name  of  Yahweh  it  shall  be  as  you 
wish." 

It  was  now  incumbent  upon  David  to  find  out 
who  of  Saul's  descendants  were  alive.  A  man 
named  Ziba,  who  had  formerly  been  a  servant  of 
Saul,  and  was  now  a  prosperous  trader,  sending 
caravans  between  the  east  and  west  banks  of  the 
Jordan,  was  the  most  likely  man  to  be  informed. 
He  happened  to  be  in  Jerusalem  at  that  time  and 
David  sent  for  him  and  questioned  him  narrowly. 
From  him  it  appeared  that  two  of  Saul's  sons, 
Armoni  and  Meribaal,  still  survived,  that  Merab, 
Saul's  eldest  daughter,  had  five  sons,  and  Jonathan 
one  son,  who  was,  however,  a  helpless  cripple. 

"It  happened  at  the  time  of  the  battle  of  Gilboa," 
explained  Ziba;  "he  was  only  a  child  then,  and  in 
the  flight  of  the  royal  household  from  the  Philistines 
his  nurse  dropped  him  and  broke  the  bones  of  his 
feet.  He  can't  stand  properly  ...  He  is  on  the 
other  side  of  the  Jordan  at  Lodebar,  in  the  house 
of  Machir." 

"A  cripple!"  thought  David.  "There  will  be 
nothing  to  fear  from  him.     And  didn't  I  swear 


246        DAVID  THE  SON  OF  JESSE 

to  Jonathan  that  I  would  be  good  to  his  sons? 
Seven  are  enough  to  give  to  the  Gibeonites." 

So  when  Joab  went  out  to  find  the  sons  of  Saul 
and  Merab,  and  deliver  them  to  the  men  of  Gibeon, 
nothing  was  said  about  the  younger  Meribaal,  the 
son  of  Jonathan.  David  would  wait  to  see  how 
the  rains  fell — if  they  were  plentiful  Yahweh  and 
the  Gibeonites  would  be  appeased  and  Meribaal 
would  be  in  no  danger. 

It  was  toward  the  end  of  April  that  the  seven 
victims  were  executed  in  Gibeon,  and  the  rains 
were  expected  in  October.  Before  that  time  a 
strange  tale  reached  the  ears  of  David.  Rizpah, 
Saul's  concubine,  the  mother  of  Armoni  and 
Meribaal,  had  gone  up  to  the  high  place,  laid  sack- 
cloth on  the  rock,  and  devoted  herself  to  keeping 
watch  over  the  dead  bodies  that  hung  there.  The 
birds  by  day  and  the  beasts  by  night  had  no  chance 
of  desecrating  and  mutilating  them,  no  chance  of 
devouring  the  flesh  and  blood  and  thus  depriving 
the  princes  of  the  shadowy  bodies  without  which 
they  would  be  unable  to  pass  their  phantom  lives 
in  the  realm  of  Sheol.  David's  feelings  were 
stirred  by  the  tale;  and  when  at  last  a  fine  rainfall 
came  and  made  the  next  harvest  secure  he  sent  for 
the  bones  that  had  been  so  faithfully  guarded,  and, 
with  the  bodies  of  Saul  and  Jonathan,  which  he 


THE  KINGDOM  247 

fetched  from  Jabesh  Gilead,  buried  them  with  royal 
honors  in  the  family  burial  place  at  Zela.  Then 
he  ordered  Ziba  to  bring  Meribaal  to  him. 

Sitting  in  the  court  of  his  new  house,  with  his 
servants  around  him,  David  awaited  the  approach 
of  Jonathan's  son.  Those  old,  old  days — how  long 
ago  they  seemed — ^to  what  a  remote  past — infinitely 
remote  from  the  actual  present — they  seemed  to  be- 
long! Yet  the  memory  of  Jonathan — of  his  de- 
votion, his  transparent  disinterestedness,  his  pas- 
sion, his  romance,  stirred  David's  pulses  and  made 
his  throat  swell.  Through  the  crowd  of  suitors 
Ziba  appeared,  helping  along  an  awkward  figure 
who  clutched  his  arms  and  whose  head  hung  down. 
At  David's  seat  he  flung  himself  to  the  ground,  his 
face  in  the  dust. 

"Meribaal,"  said  David;  and  could  say  no  more. 

Meribaal  looked  up.  His  face  was  white  and 
drawn;  he  looked  older  and  more  haggard  than 
Jonathan  had  ever  looked,  and  his  lips  were  trem- 
bling; but  he  had  Jonathan's  serene,  gentle  eyes,  and 
an  echo  of  his  endearing  voice. 

"Behold  your  servant."  The  words  were  so  low 
David  could  hardly  hear  them. 

"Do  not  be  afraid,"  he  said  kindly.  "I  mean 
you  no  harm;  I  will  be  kind  to  you  for  the  sake 
of  Jonathan,  your  father.     I  loved  him." 


248        DAVID  THE  SON  OF  JESSE 

Meribaal  touched  his  forehead,  his  lips,  and  his 
breast,  and  bent  down  again  to  kiss  the  king's  feet. 

"What  am  I  that  the  king  should  look  upon  such 
a  dead  dog?"  Again  it  was  the  moving  echo  of 
Jonathan's  voice. 

"Ziba,"  said  David,  "I  give  to  Meribaal  all  the 
land  that  belonged  to  Saul,  and  I  give  you  charge 
over  the  land  to  manage  it  and  make  over  the  pro- 
duce to  him.  And  besides  that,  Meribaal,  you 
shall  have  a  place  at  my  table  with  my  own  sons; 
and  you  shall  not  want  for  anything  any  more." 


PART  II 

BATHSHEBA 

Chapter  I 

NEWS  had  reached  David  of  the  death  of  Na- 
hash,  king  of  the  Ammonites.  Nahash  had 
fought  with  Saul,  and  in  the  days  of  David's  strug- 
gles with  him  had  taken  the  side  of  David  and  be- 
friended him.  Hanun,  the  son  of  Nahash,  now 
succeeded  his  father,  and  David  determined  to  send 
him  an  embassy  of  congratulation.  It  was  the  first 
of  these  customary  embassies  that  he  had  been  in 
a  position  to  send,  and  he  was  a  good  deal  elated 
at  the  thought  of  it,  and  a  little  anxious  lest  it 
should  not  go  off  well.  Among  those  he  selected 
to  go  to  Ammon  was  Elihu,  now  an  old  man,  but 
still  strong  enough  to  attempt  the  journey,  and  of 
a  suitably  venerable  character  and  appearance  to 
play  the  almost  sacred  part  of  an  ambassador. 
Elihu  was  delighted  at  the  compliment  and  told 
David  that  he  was  very  wise  to  choose  one  envoy 

249 


250        DAVID  THE  SON  OF  JESSE 

at  least  who  was  accustomed  to  courts  and  knew 
how  to  behave  there. 

Poor  Elihu !  His  knowledge  of  courts  stood  him 
in  little  stead  among  the  barbarous  Ammonites,  and 
his  dignity  received  a  shock  from  which  neither  it 
nor  he  ever  recovered. 

Rumors  of  an  insult  to  his  ambassadors  reached 
David  some  days  before  he  heard  exact  and  definite 
news.  He  was  already  impatient  and  annoyed 
when  a  messenger  from  Elihu  arrived,  with  torn 
clothes,  and  all  the  appearance  of  mourning. 

"What  has  happened?"  cried  David. 

"Great  wrong  to  the  Israelites,"  answered  the 
man  woefully.  "When  the  king's  ambassador 
arrived  at  Rabbah,  Hanun's  counselors  would  not 
believe  that  they  had  come  to  do  honor  to  Ammon, 
but  declared  they  were  spies  sent  to  find  out  the 
weaknesses  of  the  city.  So  Hanun  took  them  and 
— it  is  a  shame  even  to  speak  of  such  things — shaved 
off  half  their  beards,  and  cut  off  the  skirts  of  their 
clothes  up  to  their  waists.  Then  he  sent  them  away. 
They  are  at  Jericho  now  and  have  sent  me  to  tell 
the  king,  for  they  are  ashamed  to  come  into  his 
presence." 

For  a  long  time  after  this  painful  tale  there  was 
a  silence.  David's  officers  were  too  much  shocked 
to  know  what  to  say;  David  himself  was  too  indig- 


BATHSHEBA  251 

nant  to  be  able  to  speak  coherently.     At  last  he 
made  an  effort. 

"Go  back  to  Jericho  and  speak  kindly  to  Elihu 
and  the  others  from  me.  Tell  them  to  wait  at 
Jericho  till  their  beards  have  grown  and  then  to 
return  home.  They  are  not  to  grieve,  for  the  blame 
is  not  theirs,  and  I  will  fully  avenge  them  on  Hanun 
and  the  Ammonites.  .  .  .  Now,  Joab,  Abishai, 
and  Benaiah,  how  many  men  can  we  put  into  the 
field?  and  how  soon  will  they  be  ready?" 

David's  determination  to  teach  the  Ammonites 
a  lesson  they  would  not  forget  was  only  strength- 
ened when  Elihu  returned  to  Jerusalem,  and  he  saw 
how  much  shaken  and  cast  down  the  old  man  was. 
He  heard  that  Hanun  was  making  great  alliances 
with  the  Syrians,  and  with  the  kings  of  Zobah, 
Maacah,  and  Tob,  but  he  cared  nothing  for  this 
and  continued  his  own  preparations. 

By  the  time  the  rainy  season  was  over  he  was 
ready,  and  sent  out  Joab  and  Abishai  to  march 
on  Rabbah,  the  capital  of  the  Ammonites.  It  was 
not  long  before  Joab  returned.  He  had  defeated 
the  Syrians  and  the  other  allied  troops,  and  driven 
the  Ammonites  back  to  their  fortifications,  and  he 
was  now  returning  to  Jerusalem  to  get  siege 
machines,  to  be  taken  back  and  used  on  Rabbah  in 
the  following  year.     Before  the  rains  began  David 


252        DAVID  THE  SON  OF  JESSE 

himself  took  the  army  out  for  a  second  campaign 
against  Hadadezer,  king  of  Zobah,  who  had 
strengthened  himself  by  an  alliance  with  the  Syrians 
of  Damascus,  and  this  turned  out  the  most  glorious 
of  all  his  campaigns.  The  enemy  was  completely 
defeated.  David  put  garrisons  in  Damascus  and 
levied  a  yearly  tribute  from  it,  while  from  Hadadezer 
he  took  enormous  plunder,  including  a  set  of  golden 
shields  and  a  hundred  chariot  horses — the  first  the 
Israelites  had  possessed.  The  mere  news  of  these 
triumphs  brought  him  the  submission  of  another  of 
the  local  princes,  Toi,  king  of  Hamath,  who  sent 
his  son  Hadoram  to  do  homage  to  David,  and  to 
make  him  a  propitiatory  offering  of  gold,  silver, 
and  bronze  vessels.  With  all  these  trophies,  with 
his  additional  provinces,  and  his  far-spread  re- 
nown, David  returned  to  Jerusalem  well  pleased. 
He  determined  to  leave  the  siege  of  Rabbah  in  the 
spring  to  Joab  and  himself  to  rest  upon  his  laurels. 


Chapter  II 

It  was  evening.  The  long  rays  of  the  sun  no 
longer  flung  themselves  down  like  fierce  javelins, 
but  seemed  to  caress  the  hillsides  with  golden 
warmth.     The  long  shadows  had  lost  the  purple 


BATHSHEBA  253 

splendor  of  noon,  and  taken  on  an  almost  trans- 
parent look.  A  gentle  breeze  had  carried  off  the 
last  of  the  midday  heat  and  dust;  it  was  the  time 
for  pleasure  or  repose. 

David  had  just  finished  his  siesta.  The  thought 
of  returning  to  his  eternal  discussion  of  ways  and 
means  with  Seraiah  was  distasteful  to  him.  He 
almost  wished  he  was  with  Joab,  besieging  Rabbah 
— after  all  he  was  still  vigorous.  He  pulled  up 
his  sleeve  and  looked  ruefully  at  the  muscles  of  his 
arm.  If  it  came  to  a  wrestling  bout  he  could  yet 
show  these  young  men  there  was  something  left  of 
him.  He  stretched  his  arms  like  an  awakening  tiger 
— what  should  he  do? — go  into  the  harem?  No, 
he  had  had  enough  of  those  women — there  was  not 
one  of  them  who  could  give  him  a  tenth  of  the 
pleasure  he  had  had  in  Abigail — or  even  Ahinoam. 
Were  there  no  young  beauties  left?  When  Abishai 
came  back  from  Ammon  he  would  make  him  search 
some  out. 

Suddenly  an  idea  occurred  to  him.  Why  should 
he  wait?  He  would  find  some  one  for  himself,  and 
the  search  at  any  rate  would  amuse  him.  And  he 
would  begin  at  once.  The  hour  before  sunset  was 
the  time  when  the  women  were  free  of  the  upper 
parts  of  the  houses,  and  no  men  were  allowed  on 
the  roofs  lest  they  should  see  something  not  meant 


254        DAVID  THE  SON  OF  JESSE 

for  them.  But  David,  the  king,  could  do  what  he 
liked  and  no  one  would  dare  to  interfere  with  him. 

David's  new  house  was  almost  at  the  top  of  the 
eastern  ridge.  Around  it  and  below  it  on  three 
sides  were  clustered  houses,  occupied  chiefly  by  the 
families  of  his  officers  and  their  wives.  He  stepped 
gently  out  on  to  the  roof  and  looked  around. 

Almost  directly  underneath  him  was  a  large 
house  with  a  group  of  oleanders  at  one  side.  Mov- 
ing to  and  fro  on  the  roof  of  this  house  were  a  group 
of  girls  laughing  and  chattering  over  their  work, 
which  consisted  in  pouring  water  into  a  wide, 
shallow  copper  vessel,  and  placing  around  it 
various  linen  strips,  small  pots,  and  flasks  of  oil. 
He  saw  at  a  glance  that  it  was  in  preparation  for 
their  mistress'  bath,  and  for  a  moment  he  hesitated. 
Had  he  not  better  go  in?  The  next  instant  he 
laughed  at  himself,  crouched  down  behind  some 
trailing  vines,  and  watched. 

It  was  not  long  before  the  woman  herself  came 
out.  From  his  position  he  could  not  see  her  face, 
and  her  long  trailing  garments  concealed  everything 
but  the  generic  grace  of  the  Oriental  woman.  Some- 
how— ^he  could  not  tell  why — David  was  in  a  fever 
of  impatience;  something  in  her  movements  made 
him  long  to  see  more,  and  when  she  began  a  dis- 


BATHSHEBA  255 

cussion  with  her  women  as  to  the  merits  of  the 
unguents  they  had  brought  out,  smelling  one, 
rubbing  another  on  the  palm  of  her  hand,  and 
finally  sending  for  yet  a  third,  he  hardly  knew  how 
to  contain  himself.  But  all  thought  of  leaving  the 
roof  had  vanished. 

At  last  she  disrobed.  In  a  flash,  it  seemed  to 
him,  the  bands  that  fastened  back  her  veil  and  her 
hair  were  off,  and  her  heavy  black  locks  were  tum- 
bling down  her  white  back.  She  stepped  into  the 
bath,  and  the  girls  began  washing,  rubbing,  splash- 
ing, turning  her  around,  lifting  up  her  limbs, 
pushing  her  this  way  and  that.  .  .  .  Then  began 
the  drying,  anointing,  and  perfuming;  finally  her 
hair  was  arranged,  her  dress  replaced,  and  in 
another  moment  she  had  gone. 

David  drew  a  long  breath.  He  had  been  gazing 
with  such  intentness  that  his  eyes  ached,  and  as 
he  crept  down  from  the  roof  he  put  his  hand  over 
them.  But  that  would  not  keep  out  the  image  of 
what  he  had  seen.  .  .  .  Who  was  she?  How 
could  he  have  her?  His  mind  held  no  other 
thoughts  than  these. 

By  the  time  he  had  got  down  to  the  lower  rooms 
he  had  a  plan  ready,  and  called  out  to  the  door- 
keeper, who  came  running  to  see  what  he  wanted. 


256        DAVID  THE  SON  OF  JESSE 

"Tell  me,"  said  David,  as  lightly  as  he  could, 
"whose  is  that  big  house  below — the  one  with  the 
oleanders?" 

"It  must  be  Uriah's  that  my  lord  is  speaking 
of—Uriah  the  Hittite." 

"Oh  yes,"  answered  David;  "I  could  not  remem- 
ber— of  course,  Uriah  the  Hittite.  Send  Seraiah 
to  me." 

When  Seraiah  came,  David  asked  him  for  the 
names  of  the  officers  at  Rabbah  under  Joab,  and 
when  Uriah's  name  was  mentioned  he  stopped  him. 

"Uriah — is  n't  he  the  brother  of  Ahimelech — the 
two  Hittites  who  joined  me  in  the  early  days  of 
Adullam?" 

Seraiah  assented. 

"More  than  ten  years  ago — nearer  fifteen,  I 
suppose.  He  was  quite  a  boy  then.  What  does 
his  household  consist  of?" 

"He  has  only  one  wife — Bathsheba,  the  daughter 
of  Eliam — they  say  she  is  a  beauty — I  believe  he 
has  not  had  her  long." 

"Ah  well,  let  me  know  directly  any  news  comes 
from  Joab.  Good  night,  Seraiah."  David  turned 
away,  but  looked  back  and  called  after  him. 

"Eliam — isn't  he  one  of  my  officers?  Whose 
son  is  he?" 

"Yes,  he  's  an  officer — the  son  of  Ahitophel." 


BATHSHEBA  257 

All  night  David  saw  the  white  shoulders  and 
black  hair  gleaming  before  him.  He  slept,  but 
Bathsheba  was  in  his  dreams  and  he  woke  suddenly, 
with  a  beating  heart,  trembling  violently.  Till  sun- 
rise he  lay  wondering  what  her  face  was  like — 
Seraiah  had  said  she  was  a  beauty — suppose  she 
was  not — ah,  but  suppose  her  face  was  as  lovely 
as  her  body — it  must  be — he  must  have  her  so — the 
most  beautiful  creature  in  the  world. 

When  the  sun  rose  the  business  of  the  day  began, 
and  it  was  a  long  time  before  David  was  free. 
Directly  it  was  possible  he  went  to  the  women's 
apartments  and  found  an  old  servant  who  had  come 
to  him  with  Abigail  and  had  always  been  devoted 
to  him. 

"Miriam,"  he  said  hastily  and  softly,  "you  know 
the  house  of  Uriah  the  Hittite — you  are  to  fetch 
me  his  wife,  Bathsheba,  to-night — after  dark. 
Bring  her  here  and  see  that  no  one  interrupts." 
Suddenly  terror  overwhelmed  him  lest  something 
should  go  wrong — some  one  find  out — ruin  every- 
thing. He  caught  the  old  woman's  arms  and  glared 
at  her,  his  face  almost  touching  hers. 

"Take  care," — his  voice  was  hoarse  and  fierce — 
"no  one  is  to  know — if  you  betray  me  you  '11  wish 
you  'd  never  been  born." 

Miriam  smiled  and  patted  him  on  the  arm. 


258        DAVID  THE  SON  OF  JESSE 

"There,  there,"  she  said,  "you  shall  have  her, 
don't  be  afraid."  She  nodded  and  showed  her 
toothless  gums,  then  pattered  away  down  the  cor- 
ridor, well  pleased  with  her  commission. 

By  the  time  darkness  had  come  David  was  in 
a  fever  of  impatience.  Everything  was  prepared. 
Cushions  covered  the  ground,  a  savory  meal, 
smuggled  in  by  Miriam,  was  spread  out,  and  the 
room  was  illuminated  by  several  small  earthenware 
lamps.  David  heaped  the  cushions  together,  looked 
at  the  flask  of  wine,  sat  down,  got  up  again,  ex- 
amined the  lamps  to  make  sure  there  was  enough 
oil  in  them,  and  began  to  walk  up  and  down  the 
room,  almost  beside  himself.  Had  Miriam  after 
all  played  him  false?  Had  Bathsheba  refused  to 
come?  What  could  it  be?  Why  were  they  so 
late?  How  could  he  bear  this  suspense  another 
moment.  .  .  . 

He  heard  footsteps  outside;  they  paused  at  his 
room;  the  door  opened  noiselessly  and  a  woman's 
figure  glided  into  the  room.  She  was  closely  veiled, 
and  as  David  came  eagerly  forward  she  bowed  her 
head,  touched  her  forehead,  and  was  motionless. 
"Bathsheba!"  exclaimed  David.  She  raised  her 
head  and  seemed  to  wait.  "Come  and  sit  down." 
He  led  her  to  the  cushions,  and  pressed  her  down; 
then,  his  hands  trembling  with  eagerness,  he  un- 


I 


BATHSHEBA  259 

wound  the  veil.  Her  beauty  almost  took  away  his 
breath — clear,  fine  features,  an  exquisite  com- 
plexion, smooth  as  a  pomegranate  and  gently 
flushed,  dark,  deep  eyes,  and  lips  that  quivered 
between  drooping  and  smiling — he  gazed  and  gazed, 
his  breath  coming  quicker  and  quicker. 

At  last  the  inclination  to  smile  conquered,  the 
dark  eyes  sparkled,  and  she  laughed  outright. 
David  laughed  too,  caught  her  in  his  arms,  and 
then  held  her  away  to  look  again. 

"Ah,"  he  said,  rapturously,  "one  dreams  and 
dreams  of  what  it  will  be,  and  then  when  one 
sees.  .  .  .  But  you  must  eat  something.  What 
a  delicious  meal  we  are  going  to  have — look — our 
hands  meet  in  the  dish — ^let  me  put  this  delicate 
morsel  into  your  mouth — ^you  must  have  some  of 
this  wine — is  n't  it  sweet  ? — ^now  I  am  going  to  be 
your  slave  and  wash  your  fingers — how  white  they 
are,  and  how  happy  the  water  is,  to  be  kissing 
them!" 

Bathsheba  hardly  spoke.  She  lay  back  lazily 
in  his  arms,  enjoying  the  tender,  trembling  caresses 
of  his  strong  hands.  At  last  the  meal  was  over; 
David  flung  himself  on  the  ground  and  pressed  his 
lips  upon  her  small  white  feet. 

"Oh,  Bathsheba,  Bathsheba  .  .  .  speak  to  me. 
I  want  to  hear  your  lovely  voice.  .  .  ." 


260        DAVID  THE  SON  OF  JESSE 

"Lord,"  she  answered,  pressing  her  hands 
together. 

"Oh  no,  no  .  .  .  not  that  .  .  .  don't  let  that 
ever  come  between  us.  .  .  ." 

"David,  then." 

"No,  no  .  .  .  you  know  better  than  that  .  .  . 
say  it  .  .  .  you  must." 

"Love."  Her  voice  was  very  low,  but  David 
heard. 

For  weeks  Bathsheba  came  across  to  him  nearly 
every  night.  Her  beauty  and  her  charm  never 
palled;  she  intoxicated  him  and  robbed  him  of  any 
inclination  to  think  of  what  was  coming.  But  one 
night  Miriam  appeared  alone,  and  when  David  de- 
manded an  explanation  delivered  one,  with  pursed 
lips  and  shaking  head: 

"Well,  what  can  you  expect?     It 's  a  child." 


Chapter  III 

David  was  staggered.  The  idea  of  such  a  catas- 
trophe had  never  occurred  to  him — in  fact,  since  he 
had  taken  up  with  Bathsheba  very  few  ideas  of 
any  sort  had  occurred  to  him.  He  was  entirely 
absorbed  by  her,  dreaming  all  day  of  the  coming 


BATHSHEBA  261 

raptures  of  the  evening,  flinging  himself  in  her 
presence  into  a  world  of  pleasure  and  passion, 
sleeping  through  the  short  hot  night  in  an  unruffled, 
bottomless  pool  of  unconsciousness.  From  this 
dizzy  circle  he  was  torn  rudely  enough  by  Miriam's 
announcement.  It  took  him  some  time  to  realize  it 
and  all  its  implications,  and  a  day  passed  before  he 
pulled  himself  together  sufficiently  to  send  for 
Miriam  and  give  her  a  message  for  Bathsheba. 

"Tell  her  to  be  careful — very  careful — to  let  no 
one  know.  And  tell  her  that  I  have  sent  for 
Uriah." 

Miriam  goggled  at  him  for  a  moment,  and  then 
gave  an  oily  little  chuckle. 

"You  're  a  cunning  one !  Once  Uriah  's  been  to 
her — such  a  long  time  as  he  's  been  parted  from 
his  little  wife — who  's  to  think  any  harm  or  say 
a  word?  He,  he!  .  .  ."  and  the  old  woman  went 
off  hugging  herself. 

David  had  indeed  sent  a  swift  messenger  to 
Joab  with  an  order  to  be  delivered  immediately: 
"Send  me  Uriah  the  Hittite,"  and  until  he  appeared 
David  was  on  the  rack.  Suppose  anything  hap- 
pened to  delay  Uriah — suppose  he  was  ill — suppose 
Joab  had  an  attack  of  insubordination  and  would 
not  send  him.  ...     He  ground  his  teeth — if  Joab 


262        DAVID  THE  SON  OF  JESSE 

should  dare  he  would  be  sorry  for  it,  though  that 
would  not  mend  matters  now.  He  was  in  an  agony 
— a  fever,  and  his  mind  seemed  to  revolve  use- 
lessly in  that  narrow  chamber  of  hateful  ideas, 
impotent  and  suffering.  He  did  not  see  Bathsheba, 
and  indeed  pushed  her  from  his  thoughts;  as  re- 
gards his  own  future  action  he  did  not  look  beyond 
the  one  idea  of  sending  Uriah  in  to  his  wife,  and 
for  the  rest  sank  into  misery,  pursued  by  the 
terrifying  fears  of  some  impediment  to  Uriah's  safe 
arrival. 

At  last,  one  evening,  an  hour  before  sunset,  the 
doorkeeper  announced  that  Uriah  the  Hittite  had 
arrived  from  the  camp  before  Rabbah,  and  under- 
stood that  the  king  wished  to  see  him. 

"Yes,"  said  David;  "show  him  in,"  and  though 
his  heart  beat  quickly  the  load  upon  him  seemed  to 
have  lightened. 

Uriah  entered  and  made  his  obeisance,  and  David 
looked  at  him  as  if  he  had  never  seen  him  before. 
He  was  hot  and  dusty  after  his  hurried  journey,  his 
hair  sticking  to  his  forehead,  his  lips  dry  and 
cracking.  He  was  not  a  tall  man — not  handsome, 
though  neither  was  he  short  or  ugly — ^just  an  ordi- 
nary, insignificant  looking  fellow,  David  thought, 
with  a  thin,  straggly  beard.  It  suddenly  occurred 
to  him  that  if  he  had  been  a  fine,  striking  man  he 


BATHSHEBA  263 

would  not  have  wished  to  carry  out  his  intentions; 
as  it  was  he  put  his  fingers  into  his  own  thick 
golden  beard  and  felt  pleased. 

"Well,  Uriah,"  he  said,  smiling,  "and  how  is 
Joab?  .  .  .  and  the  army?  How  are  things  going 
on?" 

"Joab  and  the  army  are  well,  my  lord,"  answered 
the  Hittite.  "Rabbah  is  certainly  a  formidable 
fortress  to  attack,  yet  we  make  no  doubt  we  shall 
have  it  in  the  end." 

"Why,  what  are  the  fortifications  like?  Simply 
walls,  are  they  not?" 

"Walls,  yes,  but  much  more  massive  than  any- 
thing in  this  part  of  the  country — I  've  heard  they 
are  on  the  model  of  some  Assyrian  defenses — and 
then  there  is  a  wide  ditch  in  front  of  the  wall  with 
water  from  the  Jabbok  in  it.  I  believe  Joab's  plan 
is  to  get  command  of  the  water  above  the  city  so 
as  to  drain  the  ditch — he  says  it  is  useless  to  attack 
the  town  directly." 

"So  I  should  suppose  from  what  you  tell  me.  I 
am  most  interested  in  your  account  of  the  situation, 
and  don't  doubt  that  what  I  have  heard  of  your 
good  services  and  desert  is  quite  true.  But  I  won't 
keep  you  now — you  are  tired  from  your  journey — 
go  down  to  your  house  and  wash  your  feet  and 
rest — and  come  to  see  me  in  the  morning.'* 


264        DAVID  THE  SON  OF  JESSE 

Uriah  bowed  and  turned  to  go,  his  heart  swelling 
with  delight  at  the  king's  graciousness.  To  add 
to  his  satisfaction,  he  heard  David  say  to  a  servant: 
"Don't  forget  to  take  a  dish  from  my  table  to  Uriah 
the  Hittite  to-night" — the  king  was  indeed  bent  on 
honoring  him ! 

His  next  action,  however,  was  far  enough  from 
pleasing  the  king. 

"You  have  been  very  quick  with  that  meat," 
said  David  to  the  servant  who  had  taken  the  dish 
he  was  sending  to  Uriah;  "you  can't  have  had  time 
to  go  down  to  the  Hittite's  house  and  back." 

"No,  my  lord,"  answered  the  man,  "but  Uriah 
had  not  gone  to  his  house.  He  is  in  the  court  with 
the  others,  and  will  sleep  to-night  at  the  king's 
threshold." 

David  looked  at  him  in  horror.  Just  when  he 
was  beginning  to  feel  safe — what  could  Uriah  be 
thinking  of?  Of  course,  men  on  military  service 
were  not  supposed  to  go  in  to  their  wives,  but — no 
one  would  have  known — and  now  everything  was 
unsettled  again  and  he  must  beat  out  some  new 
method  of  extrication. 

He  spent  a  sleepless  night  void  of  counsel,  or 
of  anything  but  rage  against  the  malice  of  events. 
In  the  morning  when  Uriah  came  to  him  as  had 
been  arranged  he  found  him  in  a  very  different  mood 


BATHSHEBA  265 

from  the  evening.  He  was  irritable  and  sarcastic, 
and  whatever  Uriah  said  served  only  to  increase 
the  pungency  of  his  remarks. 

"Well,"  said  David  at  last,  unable  to  keep  off 
the  topic  that  obsessed  him,  though  he  knew  it  was 
useless  and  felt  it  was  rash,  "so  you  slept  up  here 
last  night.  I  thought  after  your  journey  and  long 
absence  you  would  be  sure  to  want  to  go  to  .  .  . 
your  own  house." 

Uriah  flushed  faintly  and  looked  at  the  ground. 

"Yes  ...  I  did  go  down  for  a  moment — but  as 
you  know  we  in  the  camp  are  all  set  apart — ^no, 
no,  while  the  Ark  and  Israel  and  Judah  and  Joab 
and  the  rest  are  out  there  in  the  tents  I  can't  be 
eating  and  drinking  and  enjoying  myself  with  my 
wife.  .  .  ." 

"Of  course  not."  Uriah  wondered  at  the  bitter- 
ness of  his  voice.  "Well,  come  and  eat  at  my 
table  to-night,  and  you  shall  go  back  to  camp  with 
a  message  for  Joab  to-morrow  morning." 

Uriah's  answer  had  given  him  a  suggestion — he 
would  have  one  more  attempt  before  giving  up  all 
hope. 

That  night,  then,  Uriah  ate  with  the  king.  He 
began  to  wonder  if  David  was  ill — so  changeable 
he  had  been — first  so  gracious,  then  all  over 
prickles,  and  to-night  as  jovial  as  possible  again 


266        DAVID  THE  SON  OF  JESSE 

— perhaps  a  shade  too  jovial.  Certainly  when  one 
looked  closely  he  was  thinner  in  the  face,  more 
haggard  looking  than  usual,  and  his  eyes  seemed 
to  have  sunk  into  his  head  and  to  gleam  feverishly. 
He  was  evidently  excited,  too,  though  he  seemed 
quite  friendly  again,  and  kept  pressing  Uriah  to 
more  and  more  of  his  own  special  wine.  At  first 
Uriah  hung  back  and  protested;  but  good  manners 
and  then  the  rich  flavor  prevailed  over  his  scruples, 
and  soon  the  whole  world  swayed  in  a  golden 
mist. 

"Now,  Jonadab,"  said  David  to  one  of  his 
nephews,  laughing,  "help  the  poor  fellow  down  to 
his  house  and  let  his  wife  take  care  of  him." 

Jonadab  took  the  Hittite's  arm  and  dragged  him 
out  of  the  room,  but  came  back  a  moment  after, 
smiling  ruefully  and  declaring  he  could  not  get 
Uriah  out  of  the  court — ^his  one  idea  had  been  to 
refuse  to  go  home — ^he  must  stay  there  till  he  awoke 
in  the  morning. 

The  feast  did  not  last  long  after  this  episode. 
David,  black  and  impatient,  dismissed  them  all, 
and  was  soon  in  deep  conference  with  Miriam. 
He  must  see  Bathsheba  that  very  night;  Miriam 
must  persuade  her  that  Uriah  was  disposed  of — that 
all  was  safe — and  that  the  king  insisted  on  her 
coming  immediately. 


BATHSHEBA  267 

Miriam's  arts  were  quite  capable  of  all  this,  and 
it  was  not  long  before  Bathsheba  stood  before  him. 
Directly  he  saw  her  he  forgot  everything  else. 

"Ah,  my  beauty!"  he  cried,  stroking  her  head 
and  her  shoulder.  "What  years  it  seems  since  I  've 
seen  you — how  have  I  lived  without  you?  .  .  ." 
but  she  pushed  him  away. 

"Hush,  David;  we've  so  much  to  speak  about. 
He  has  n't  been  near  me — ^Miriam  says  to-night 
he  's  drunk — what  are  we  to  do?" 

David  dropped  her  arm. 

"I  don't  know — I  can't  think — are  you  sure? — 
quite  sure?" 

"Yes,  quite;  and  so  is  Miriam."  She  looked 
at  him;  suddenly  she  gave  a  faint  scream  and  fell 
on  her  knees,  clutching  his  robe. 

"You  're  not  going  to  give  me  up? — ^to  leave 
me? — you  're  not  going  to  pretend  it 's  not  you? — 
you  know  what  they  '11  do  when  they  find  out — it 's 
stoning— think— all  this"— she  pulled  away  her 
dress  and  showed  her  white,  throbbing  breast— "this 
that  you  called  so  beautiful— that  you  said  you 
loved — that  you  caressed  and  kissed  so  often — 
bruised,  bleeding— ah— "  she  shuddered,  and  began 
to  sob.  "And  the  child  too  will  be  killed— your 
child,  David— oh,  don't  let  them— save  me,  save 
me,  don't  leave  me  to  such  dreadful  things.  .  .  ." 


268        DAVID  THE  SON  OF  JESSE 

He  took  her  in  his  arms  and  laid  her  on  the 
cushions,  stroking  her  hair  and  soothing  her. 

"Hush,  hush  .  .  .  don't  cry  so  .  .  .  don't  cry 
...  it  '11  hurt  you  .  .  .  hush,  hush,  my  little 
girl  ...  of  course  I  won't  leave  you  ...  of 
course  you  're  safe  .  .  .  oh,  hush,  my  darling." 

Presently  her  sobs  grew  less  and  she  began  to 
kiss  his  hands,  and  caress  him  feebly.  "That 's 
right,  my  beauty ;  you  must  n't  cry  so — you  must 
be  brave,  and  help  me  to  think  of  what  we  can  do." 

She  sighed  wearily. 

"I  don't  know — why  could  n't  he  come  up  to 
me  ? — it  would  have  been  so  easy — but  he  's  always 
tiresome — always  doing  the  most  annoying  thing. 
If  only  he  was  killed  out  there  at  Rabbah — heaps 
of  people  are — ^but,  of  course,  he  won't  be,  just 
because  it  would  make  things  so  simple." 

David  gave  a  half-hearted  laugh. 

"Yes — it  certainly  would  be  convenient  if  some- 
thing were  to  happen  to  him." 

"But  it  won't — ^you  '11  see."  She  too  gave  half 
a  smile  through  her  tears. 

"It  might,"  David  persisted,  and  then  stopped 
suddenly.  They  looked  at  each  other  as  if  by  a 
common  impulse;  neither  spoke;  Bathsheba's  eyes 
were  dry  and  David's  hard.  All  at  once  he  got  up 
and  walked  across  the  room. 


BATHSHEBA  269 

"It 's  time  you  went  back,"  he  said  when  he 
.urned,  and  his  voice  was  cold  and  remote. 

Bathsheba's  hysterics  were  over.  She  twisted 
her  veil  on  and  called  Miriam.  At  the  door  David 
said  "Good  night"  and  kissed  her;  on  her  hot  fore- 
head she  felt  it  like  a  brand  of  ice. 

Before  sunrise  David  was  closeted  with  Seraiah, 
concocting  a  despatch  for  Joab.  It  was  not  long, 
yet  it  took  a  long  time  to  produce,  and  Seraiah 
looked  gray  and  weary  when  he  came  out  with  it 
and  called  for  Uriah. 

"You  are  to  go  as  fast  as  you  can — don't  waste 
an  hour — Joab  must  have  it  as  soon  as  possible. 
No,  you  need  not  go  in  to  greet  the  king,  he  is  busy. 
He  told  me  to  tell  you  he  wishes  you  good  speed." 


Chapter  IV 

During  the  weeks  that  followed  there  were  no 
more  meetings  between  David  and  Bathsheba. 
David  sent  her  word  by  Miriam  that  it  was  wiser 
so,  and  she  acquiesced  without  protest ;  but  the  wish 
for  safety  was  not  the  only  thing  that  kept  them 
apart  just  then,  during  the  long  days  in  which  they 
both  waited  for  news  from  Rabbah. 


270        DAVID  THE  SON  OF  JESSE 

At  last  the  expected  messenger  arrived  and  David 
said  he  would  see  him  alone.  The  man  was  a 
sharp,  weasel-faced  fellow  who  had  never  been  so 
near  the  king  before.  He  noticed  that  during 
nearly  the  whole  of  the  interview  David  kept  his  eyes 
on  the  ground,  but  when  he  did  look  up  his  eyes 
were  as  piercing  as  a  sword. 

"Joab  sends  news  of  a  fight  we  have  had  with 
the  men  of  Rabbah.  His  main  operations  are  above 
the  city,  on  the  waterworks,  but  from  time  to  time 
he  makes  demonstrations  on  the  town  itself  so  that 
they  may  not  discover  his  real  aim.  This  fight 
was  just  one  of  these  demonstrations,  only  it  devel- 
oped into  something  a  little  more  serious,  and  Joab 
thinks  you  should  hear  of  it." 

"Well?"  David  was  playing  with  the  corner  of 
a  rug  and  hardly  appeared  to  be  listening. 

"We  attacked  early  in  the  morning  and  the  men 
of  Rabbah  came  out  against  us  in  force.  Joab 
sent  reinforcements  to  the  Israelites  with  orders  to 
push  back  the  enemy  at  any  cost.  The  Ammonites 
began  to  retire,  and  about  a  hundred  of  our  men 
pursued  them  right  up  to  the  wall,  which  was 
strongly  manned,  and  before  they  could  get  back 
there  were  some  rather  heavy  losses." 

The  color  leapt  into  David's  cheeks  and  his 
eyes  were  suddenly  fixed  on  the  messenger's  face. 


BATHSHEBA  271 

"What  is  the  meaning  of  such  a  manoeuver? 
What  were  these  men  doing  up  against  the  wall — 
did  they  not  know  they  would  be  shot  at  from 
behind  the  ramparts?" 

The  man  certainly  felt  uneasy,  but  he  went  on 
with  his  message. 

"Most  of  the  Israelites  came  back  in  good  time — 
there  must  have  been  some  confusion  in  the  orders 
given  to  the  others.  I  was  to  tell  you  that  about 
twenty  men  were  killed — among  them  Uriah  the 
Hittite." 

There  was  such  a  long  pause  that  he  felt  the 
king  must  have  forgotten  his  presence,  and  began 
to  wonder  how  he  would  get  out  of  the  room;  but 
at  last  he  had  his  answer. 

"Return  to  Joab  and  say  this  to  him:  'Do  not 
be  discouraged  by  this  reverse:  a  town  cannot  be 
taken  without  losing  men:  go  on  with  the  siege  and 
take  the  city.'  " 

David's  voice  was  slow  and  weak;  his  face, 
which  had  been  white,  was  gray.  The  messenger 
wondered  if  he  was  ill,  but  he  dared  not  speak  a 
word,  bowed  to  the  ground,  and  left  the  room.  The 
news  of  the  disaster  was  published  all  over  Jerusa- 
lem before  he  left  it. 

It  was  now  the  end  of  August.  After  a  good 
deal  of  secret  consultation  with  Miriam  and  Bath- 


272        DAVID  THE  SON  OF  JESSE 

sheba  it  was  agreed  that  as  the  child  was  to  be 
born  in  March  it  would  on  the  whole  give  the  least 
opportunity  for  scandal  if  Bathsheba  were  brought 
into  the  harem  immediately  after  her  seven  days 
of  mourning.  The  child  could  then  pass  as  a 
seven-months'  child,  and  malicious  gossip  would 
at  any  rate  be  provided  with  an  official  answer. 

Certainly  there  was  plenty  of  gossip  to  deal  with. 
The  hasty  marriage,  the  rapid  discovery  of  Bath- 
sheba's  condition,  soon  aroused  suspicion.  There 
were  plenty  of  stories  going  about  Jerusalem  to 
promote  its  growth.  Some  one  had  seen  David 
coming  down  from  the  roof  at  a  time  when  he  had 
no  business  there ;  another  had  seen  a  young  woman 
the  same  height  as  Bathsheba  leaving  Uriah's  house 
several  times  after  dark;  one  or  two  had  noticed 
how  anxious  David  had  been  for  Uriah  to  go  down 
to  his  house  the  last  time  he  was  in  Jerusalem, 
though  of  course  he  had  no  right  to  go  to  his  wife. 
Possibly  Miriam  may  have  whispered  something 
to  a  few  of  her  cronies,  and  Seraiah  may  have  told 
his  wife  what  was  in  David's  letter  to  Joab.  When 
it  was  all  put  together  it  made  a  pretty  story,  and 
by  the  time  the  baby  was  born  Jerusalem  could  talk 
of  nothing  else  but  poor  Uriah  and  that  infamous 
woman,  Bathsheba.  For  David  there  were  many 
excuses.     His  own  wives  were  an  uninteresting  set 


BATHSHEBA  273 

— Ahinoam  faded,  Michal  a  scold,  Naomi  too 
young  and  inexperienced;  doubtless,  too,  he  had 
been  deceived  and  led  on  by  Bathsheba,  who  had 
taken  advantage  of  his  well-known  kindness  of 
heart.  A  few  took  a  less  philanthropic  view  of  the 
case,  and  among  these  was  Nathan  the  Prophet. 

David,  of  course,  was  completely  ignorant  of 
the  current  rumors.  He  had  almost  succeeded  in 
forgetting  the  unpleasant  events  of  the  previous 
summer,  and  was  as  proud  as  possible  of  the  little 
boy  Bathsheba  had  given  him.  The  child  was  not 
as  robust  as  could  have  been  wished,  and  one 
morning  the  women  protested  something  had  gone 
really  wrong  with  him,  and  set  up  all  the  stir  and 
bustle  which  they  seem  to  think  necessary  at  such 
times  and  which  drives  the  men  to  flight.  On  that 
very  morning  Nathan  asked  to  see  the  king. 

"How  is  the  baby?"  asked  David,  coming  hur- 
riedly into  Bathsheba's  room. 

"Hush — he  's  asleep — I  think  he  's  much  better." 

David  sighed  with  relief.  "I  knew  it  was  all 
nonsense.  I  ought  not  to  have  let  Nathan  frighten 
me." 

"What  do  you  mean?  What  is  all  nonsense,  and 
how  could  Nathan  frighten  you?" 

"I  've  just  had  a  terrible  scene  with  him.  He 
came  in  with  some  long-winded  story  about  a  rich 


274        DAVID  THE  SON  OF  JESSE 

man  and  a  poor  man  and  a  lamb,  and  when  I  said 
it  was  a  disgraceful  story  and  the  offender  should 
be  severely  punished  he  said  I  was  the  man." 

"You!     What  did  he  mean  by  that?" 

"Oh,  I  don't  know.  ...  He  said  I  had  killed 
Uriah — which  is  quite  untrue — and  taken  his  wife 
— which  I  had  a  perfect  right  to  do — and  that  I 
had  despised  Yahweh." 

"And  what  did  you  say?" 

"I  saw  it  was  no  use  arguing  with  him,  so  I 
said  I  had  sinned  against  the  Lord.  Then  he  was 
kind  enough  to  say  that  Yahweh  would  take  away 
the  sin  from  me  so  that  /  should  not  die,  but  that 
the  child  would." 

"David!  Did  you  let  him  say  that?  Do  you 
think  he  knows?  How  can  you  let  people  talk 
like  that  to  you — but  every  one  says  you're  too 
good-natured  and  this  is  what  it  leads  to  .  .  .  oh, 
my  poor  darling  ..."  and  she  hung  over  the  baby 
in  an  agony. 

That  night  the  child  was  worse  again  and  the 
whole  palace  was  in  a  turmoil.  For  seven  days 
he  hung  between  life  and  death,  and  during  all 
that  time  David  lay  in  an  inner  room  imploring 
Yahweh  to  remove  the  sin,  pouring  dust  on  his 
head  and  fasting.  His  counselors,  as  far  as  they 
dared,  begged  him  to  be  reasonable — to  sit  up,  to 


BATHSHEBA  275 

eat — but  he  made  no  answer,  and  would  not  even 
raise  his  head.  On  the  seventh  day  as  he  lay  in 
that  mist  of  horror  he  felt  that  a  terrible  hush  had 
fallen  upon  the  palace.  Then  he  noticed  that  the 
men  in  his  room  were  whispering — he  looked  up 
and  saw  that  they  were  in  a  little  group  together 
staring  at  him.  He  sat  up  and  asked  dully:  "Is 
the  child  dead?" 

"He  is  dead,"  answered  one  of  them,  and  they  all 
watched  the  king  anxiously.  David  got  up  with 
difficulty. 

"Bring  me  water  and  oil  and  prepare  a  meal  for 
me.  Since  Yahweh  has  not  heard  my  prayers  and 
the  baby  is  dead  I  need  fast  no  more.  The  child 
will  go  to  Sheol,  and  I,  when  my  days  on  earth  are 
over,  shall  go  to  him  there." 

It  was  fortunate  for  David  that  about  a  month 
later  he  was  called  off  to  Rabbah  by  Joab.  The 
long  siege  was  coming  to  a  successful  close,  and 
Joab  suggested  that  the  king  should  come  and  strike 
the  fi.nal  blow,  so  that  the  honor  of  taking  the  town 
should  be  his.  He  marched  off  with  a  new  con- 
tingent of  men  and  in  a  few  weeks  Rabbah  sur- 
rendered. The  work  of  dealing  with  the  captured 
inhabitants  and  plundering  the  city  did  not  take 
long,  and  David  soon  returned  to  Jerusalem  with 
a  gold  crown  set  with  precious  stones  which  had 


276        DAVID  THE  SON  OF  JESSE 

belonged  to  Milcom,  the  god  of  the  Ammonites. 
Bathsheba,  radiant  with  pride  and  hope,  came  out 
to  meet  him,  and  at  the  sight  of  her  the  cloud 
that  had  hung  over  David  so  long  was  lifted  from 
his  forehead.  In  the  beginning  of  the  following 
year  Bathsheba  had  a  beautiful  boy;  he  was  called 
Solomon. 


PART  III 
ABSALOM 
Chapter  I 

WHEN  Solomon  was  eight  years  old  he  was 
given  into  the  charge  of  Nathan,  to  learn 
whatever  it  was  thought  desirable  for  him  to  know. 
By  this  time  the  palace  buildings  had  increased  in 
number  and  size,  and  the  luxury  of  the  arrangements 
surpassed  anything  that  had  been  dreamt  of  in  the 
early  days  in  Jerusalem.  To  begin  with,  the  king's" 
own  family  was  of  such  dimensions  that  its 
accomodation  demanded  much  space;  the  grown- 
up sons  each  had  his  own  establishment,  while  the 
unmarried  daughters  lived  in  the  greatly  enlarged 
and  improved  harem.  The  seclusion  of  the  women, 
though  nothing  like  what  it  afterward  became,  was 
even  then  a  mark  of  superior  rank  and  refinement, 
and  brothers  and  sisters  by  the  same  father  and 
different  mothers  were,  in  the  ordinary  way,  kept 
apart  from  each  other.     Indeed  they  were  hardly 

277 


278        DAVID  THE  SON  OF  JESSE 

looked  upon  as  related,  and  marriages  between  them 
were  sanctioned  and  not  uncommon. 

The  king's  eldest  son,  Amnon,  occupied  a 
special  position  among  the  princes.  He  was  the 
acknowledged  heir,  and  always  favored  by  David, 
though  some  thought  that  secretly  he  was  fondest 
of  Absalom.  Absalom  and  Tamar  were  the  son 
and  daughter  of  Maacah,  herself  the  daughter  of 
the  king  of  Geshur,  a  principality  to  the  north  of 
Israel.  They  were  devoted  to  each  other,  and  for 
a  long  time  Absalom  would  not  leave  the  king's 
palace  because  he  did  not  wish  to  be  separated  from 
Tamar ;  when  at  last  he  was  persuaded  that  he  ought 
to,  he  still  contrived  to  see  his  sister  almost  as 
frequently  as  before,  in  Maacah's  room.  Maacah 
herself  had  been  a  celebrated  beauty  in  her  youth, 
and  her  two  children  inherited  her  looks.  Absalom 
was  very  like  David — he  had  the  same  golden-red 
hair,  which  grew  even  more  luxuriantly  than  his 
father's.  So  heavy  was  it  that  every  year  he  cut 
it  short,  and  every  year  it  grew  again  below  his 
shoulders. 

Besides  the  king's  sons  and  daughters  there  had 
to  be  rooms  and  houses  for  his  other  relations. 
Many  of  his  brothers  and  sisters  had  children,  the 
younger  of  whom  had  been  brought  up  in  the 
palace,  though  of  course,  Joab,  Abishai,  and  some 


ABSALOM  279 

other  nephews  of  his  own  age  had  long  had  their 
own  houses.  Amnon  and  Absalom  had  both  their 
favorite  cousins — Amnon's  was  Jonadab,  the  son 
of  Shimei,  an  elder  brother  of  David,  and  Absalom's 
was  Amasa,  the  son  of  Abigail,  a  younger  sister. 

Then,  on  the  outer  edge  of  the  royal  circle, 
were  the  advisers,  officers,  and  attendants  of  the 
royal  household.  These  had  been  added  to  period- 
ically until  they  now  formed  a  small  town  in  them- 
selves. Among  the  new  servants  whom  David 
found  in  his  later  years  he  could  not  do  without, 
were  the  musicians.  Since  he  had  had  more  time 
for  leisure  he  had  more  and  more  devoted  himself 
to  music — had  made  new  musical  instruments,  in- 
vented new  songs,  and  gathered  around  him  a 
choice  group  of  men  and  women  singers  and  per- 
formers. In  these  days  the  royal  feasts  were 
elaborate,  artistic  ceremonials,  instead  of  the  mere 
orgies  of  food  and  drink  which  were  all  that  Saul 
had  known  or  imagined. 

With  these  increasing  complexities  in  his  way  of 
living  David  tended  more  and  more  to  be  absorbed 
in  the  external  ritual  of  royalty,  and  to  turn  away 
from  his  old  dreams  and  meditations.  His  affec- 
tion for  his  sons  still  remained  and  was  expressed 
chiefly  by  praise  and  indulgence — his  daughters 
hardly  affected  his  scheme  of  things — and  Bath- 


280         DAVID  THE  SON  OF  JESSE 

sheba  retained  an  influence  over  him  which  she 
had  perhaps  never  yet  exerted  to  the  uttennost. 

It  happened  that  Amnon  had  not  been  to  see 
his  father  for  several  days,  and  at  last  David  sent 
for  Jonadab  to  ask  the  cause  of  it.  David  thought 
Jonadab  was  rather  sly  and  did  not  trust  him  or 
like  him;  but  as  Amnon  was  so  fond  of  him  he 
concealed  his  own  feelings — or  thought  he  did. 
Perhaps  he  did  not  conceal  them  from  Jonadab. 

"Amnon  is  ill,"  was  his  reply  to  David's  en- 
quiries; "it  is  not  much — a  little  fever — it  irritates 
him  to  be  crossed,  and  that  is  apt  to  make  the  fever 
worse — I  am  sure  a  visit  from  the  king  would  be  the 
very  thing  for  him." 

So  David  set  off  for  Amnon's  house,  and  found 
him  on  his  bed,  looking,  as  Jonadab  had  said, 
flushed  and  restless.  He  tossed  about  while  his 
father  talked,  and  at  last  David  rose. 

"Is  there  anything  you  want,  my  son,  before 
I  go?"  he  asked.     Amnon  hesitated. 

"No — yes,  I  want  my  sister  Tamar  to  come  and 
make  some  cakes  for  me.  She  makes  them  better 
than  any  one  else  and  I  believe  I  could  eat  them. 
But  she  must  come  and  make  them  here,  or  I  shall 
be  sure  somebody  else  made  them,  and  they  won't 
be  good.  .  .  ." 


ABSALOM  281 

David  shook  his  head  and  smiled. 

"What  foolish  ideas  you  have — well,  as  you  're 
ill  I  '11  tell  Maacah  to  send  her  across." 

He  glanced  over  his  shoulder  as  he  left  the  room 
and  whispered  to  Jonadab,  who  was  standing  out- 
side: 

"He  really  is  n't  well — such  flushed  cheeks  and 
bright  eyes — I  've  never  seen  him  like  that  before. 
If  he  is  n't  better  by  the  evening,  send  me  word." 

Jonadab  bowed  low  and  made  no  answer. 

That  afternoon  there  was  such  an  outcry  in  the 
women's  apartments  that  David  nearly  sent  to  ask 
what  the  matter  was.  He  smiled  to  himself,  how- 
ever, and  decided  that  it  was  wiser  to  say  nothing 
about  it.  If  it  was  anything  important,  no  doubt 
he  would  hear  about  it  all  in  good  time. 

He  did  indeed  hear  about  it. 

The  wails  and  lamentations  seemed  to  increase 
rather  than  diminish,  and  suddenly,  without  the 
customary  request  for  permission,  Absalom  burst 
into  the  room.  His  face  was  crimson  with  passion, 
he  was  panting  violently,  and  stood  there,  at  first 
apparently  unable  to  speak. 

"Absalom!"  cried  David,  in  alarm,  "what  is  it? 
Why  do  you  rush  in  like  that?     Speak!" 

Absalom  at  last  found  his  voice,  but  only  to 
stammer  incoherently: 


282         DAVID  THE  SON  OF  JESSE 

"Tamar!"    he    said,    and    then,    "That    villain 
Ammon — O  God,  the  villain !   .  .  ." 

David  turned  pale. 

"Be  quiet,  Absalom,"  he  said,  "be  quiet;   and 
tell  me  what  has  happened." 

Absalom  turned  on  his  father  suddenly,  with  a 
concentrated  fierceness. 

"Yes,"  he  said,  "I  '11  tell  you,  and  you  shall 
say  whether  that  devil  should  live  another  day — 
another  hour.  Tamar — "  he  swallowed  convul- 
sively— "Tamar  went  to  him  by  your  orders.  He 
sent  every  one  out,  and  asked  her  to  come  to  him. 
'No,'  said  she;  'ask  the  king,  and  he  will  give  me 
to  you  properly  as  a  wife.'  But  he  would  n't  listen 
— and  took  her  by  force.  Then — the  black-hearted 
scoundrel — he  told  her  he  hated  her,  and  turned  her 
out  and  bolted  the  door.  And  she  came  back 
alone  through  the  streets,  crying  and  tearing  her 
dress.  ...  Oh  my  poor,  pretty  Tamar! — but  I 
will  see  you  righted." 

Absalom  himself  was  crying,  the  tears  streaming 
down  his  cheeks,  but  David  said  nothing  and  stared 
at  him.  Presently  Absalom's  rage  overcame  his 
grief  and  he  caught  hold  of  David. 

"What  are  you  going  to  do?"  he  cried  between 
his  teeth. 

"It 's  too  terrible,"  said  David  faintly.     "How 


ABSALOM  283 

does  he  dare  commit  such  wickedness?  If  he  were 
not  my  eldest  son  he  should.  .  .  ." 

Absalom  shook  his  arm  and  cried  out  again: 

"What  are  you  going  to  do?" 

"It  is  a  great  sin — I  am  very,  very  angry  with 
him — I  shall  certainly  not  see  him  until  he  is  sorry 
for  what  he  has  done.  ..." 

Absalom  looked  at  him;  then  with  a  groan,  half 
rage  and  half  despair,  let  go  his  arm  and  rushed 
out  of  the  room  as  wildly  as  he  had  come  in. 


Chapter  II 

Yet  what  was  David  to  do?  The  usual  thing  in 
a  similar  case  was  for  the  offender  to  pay  a  sum 
of  money  to  the  girl's  father,  which  in  this  case 
was  clearly  absurd.  It  is  true  that  such  an  arrange- 
ment did  not  always  appease  the  male  relations — 
often,  like  Absalom,  they  became  excited  and  took 
an  exaggerated  view  of  the  affair,  in  which  case 
bloodshed  was  apt  to  follow.  But  it  was  just  such 
frays  and  feuds  that  David  saw  to  be  fatal  to  the 
progress  of  the  country,  and  he  aimed,  in  all  his 
system  of  administration,  at  reducing  them  to  the 
minimum.     Why  should  he  encourage  Absalom's 


284        DAVID  THE  SON  OF  JESSE 

foolish  excitement?  Besides,  Amnon  was  the 
eldest.  ...  In  short,  it  seemed  to  him  better  to 
do  nothing.  Amnon  must  be  told  his  father  was 
seriously  displeased.  Absalom  must  calm  down 
and  become  more  reasonable.  In  time  the  whole 
thing  would  blow  over. 

Two  years  passed,  and  it  seemed  as  if  David 
was  right.  There  had  been  no  outbreak,  no  recrim- 
inations, and  Amnon  and  Absalom  were  apparently 
on  good  terms.  It  was  late  in  the  month  of  May 
and  the  harvest  was  in  full  swing.  The  warm 
days,  not  yet  too  hot,  and  the  delicious  nights  made 
it  a  season  for  pleasure  parties,  and  the  young  people 
of  the  palace  were  constantly  devising  expeditions 
and  festivities. 

One  day  Absalom  came  to  David,  full  of  excited 
gaiety,  and  bursting  with  a  request. 

"I  am  going  to  have  my  sheep-shearing  feast  at 
Baal-Nazor  in  a  day  or  two — will  you  come,  father, 
and  all  your  household?" 

David  smiled. 

"All  my  household — why,  Absalom,  you  would 
be  ruined — it  would  take  all  your  harvest  of  this 
year  to  give  us  a  feast." 

"But  you  can't  come  without  your  people,  and 
I  so  want  you  to  come." 

David  shook  his  head. 


ABSALOM  285 

"No,  no,  my  son,  don't  press  me.  I  'm  too  old 
for  these  gaieties — besides,  you  young  people  would 
not  enjoy  yourselves  so  much  if  I  were  there  in 
your  way.  Go  and  have  your  sheep-shearing  feast 
without  me." 

Absalom  looked  down  and  hesitated. 
"Well,  then,"  he  said,  looking  up  again,  "let 
Amnon  come  with  us  instead." 

"Amnon?"  said  David  sharply.  "What  do  you 
want  him  for?" 

"If  I  cannot  have  the  king  to  honor  my  feast 
the  next  best  would  be  his  eldest  son,"  Absalom 
explained. 

"Well,  ask  him,"  answered  David;  and  Absalom 
kissed  his  hand  and  laughed  with  delight. 

"Yes!"  he  exclaimed,  "we  will  have  Amnon  and 
Adonijah,  and  Shephatiah  and  Ithream  and  all  their 
friends — you  will  not  let  us  take  little  Solomon,  I 
suppose?  I  will  ride  over  to-night  and  see  that 
all  is  prepared,  and  then — to-morrow  if  possible — 
we  will  have  our  feast!" 

David  smiled  at  him  and  laid  his  hand  on  the 
golden  head.  He  felt  a  great  gush  of  feeling 
whenever  he  looked  at  Absalom,  for  whom  he  had 
a  peculiar  and  intimate  love.  Amnon  was  the 
eldest,  and  had  always  held  a  privileged  position, 
but  it  was  Absalom  who  was  the  darling  of  his 


286        DAVID  THE  SON  OF  JESSE 

heart.  At  times  like  these,  when  the  young  man 
was  eager  and  intent  for  some  trifling  scheme  on 
which  he  was  set,  when  his  eyes  danced  and  his 
mouth  broke  iato  irresistible  smiles,  David  felt  as 
if  his  own  youth  had  come  back — ^his  own  youth 
shining  in  a  golden  aureole  of  princely  pomp  and 
luxury,  which  made  a  delicious  contrast  to  the  hard 
and  dangerous  days  of  the  old  reality. 

The  next  morning  was  as  brilliant  and  glittering 
as  could  have  been  wished.  Before  the  sun  had 
actually  risen  the  pleasure  makers  were  astir,  and 
soon  a  noisy,  laughing  troop  of  young  men  were 
assembling  outside  the  palace.  The  grooms  brought 
out  mules,  harnessed  in  bright  colors  and  hung  over 
with  bells;  the  runners,  those  who  went  before 
persons  of  high  rank  to  prepare  the  way,  had  girded 
themselves  up  for  the  twelve-mile  run;  other  serv- 
ants were  loading  a  few  donkeys  with  extra  delica- 
cies to  be  used  at  the  feast.  Then,  in  twos  and 
threes,  the  princes  and  their  companions  appeared 
— about  twenty  young  men,  the  eldest  not  twenty- 
six,  the  youngest  just  eighteen.  Solomon,  a  chubby 
boy  of  ten,  had  escaped  from  Nathan  and  was 
jumping  in  and  out  of  the  concourse,  his  vain  long- 
ing to  join  in  the  sport  drowned  for  the  moment  in 
his  excitement  at  the  assembly.  All  this  David 
watched  from  the  roof  with  a  tender  enjoyment  of 


ABSALOM  287 

their  pleasure.  Suddenly,  with  a  thrill  at  which  he 
smiled  himself,  he  saw  Absalom  jump  on  to  his 
mule,  wave  his  hand,  and  call  to  the  others. 

In  a  moment  they  were  up,  the  whole  gaily 
colored  crowd  in  movement,  accompanied  by  the 
clattering  of  hoofs,  the  jingling  of  bells,  the  laugh- 
ter of  young  men.  Amnon  was  obviously  the 
gayest  and  noisiest  of  them  all.  He  rode  in  front 
with  Absalom  on  one  side  and  Amasa  on  the  other, 
and  kept  turning  round,  shouting  jokes  and  snatches 
of  song  to  the  rest,  flinging  himself  about  in  his 
saddle,  evidently  dominated  completely  by  hilarity 
and  excitement.  David  saw  the  gay  cavalcade 
wind  down  the  hill  to  the  valley  of  the  Kedron — 
then  they  turned  north,  toward  Bethel,  near  which 
place  were  Absalom's  estates,  and  disappeared  be- 
hind the  turn  of  the  road. 

The  long  shadows  of  evening  were  beginning  to 
creep  across  the  narrow  streets,  and  David,  his 
siesta  over,  was  sitting  in  one  of  the  lower  rooms. 
He  did  not  expect  the  princes  back  till  after  dark, 
and  indeed  would  not  have  been  surprised  if  they 
had  sent  a  messenger  to  say  that  with  his  permission 
they  would  spend  the  night  at  Baal-Nazor.  All  at 
once  he  heard  a  scuffle  at  the  door — the  doorkeeper 
and  some  would-be  intruder  were  evidently  in 
dispute. 


288        DAVID  THE  SON  OF  JESSE 

"Go  and  see  what  it  is,  Jonadab,"  said  David, 
for  Jonadab,  for  some  reason  best  known  to  him- 
self, had  not  gone  with  the  others.  Before  he  could 
get  across  the  room  the  doorkeeper  had  been  worsted 
and  a  man  rushed  in,  his  clothes  torn,  his  head 
covered  with  dust,  his  eyes  bloodshot  and  staring. 
Never  was  a  more  obvious  messenger  of  evil. 
David  leapt  to  his  feet,  and  the  man  flung  himself 
to  the  ground,  and  in  answer  to  the  king's  frenzied 
cry,  gasped  out: 

"Absalom  has  killed  all  the  king's  sons  and 
there  is  not  one  of  them  left." 

The  wail  of  despair  that  filled  the  hall  was 
echoed  from  the  courtyard  and  from  the  streets  of 
the  city.  The  king  flung  himself  on  the  ground,  the 
bystanders  tore  their  clothes — only  Jonadab  re- 
mained cool  and  collected.  He  waited  for  a  few 
moments,  then  went  over  to  where  the  king  lay  and 
sat  down  beside  him.  He  spoke  in  a  calm,  assured 
voice,  and  presently  David  raised  himself  and 
listened. 

"Let  not  the  king  suppose  that  they  have  killed 
all  the  princes,  for  only  Amnon  is  dead.  Absalom 
has  been  planning  this  since  Tamar  was  forced." 

"What  do  you  say?"  asked  David,  feebly. 

"Let  not  the  king  take  it  so  to  heart,"  answered 
the  quiet  voice.     "Let  him  not  think  that  all  the 


ABSALOM  289 

princes  are  dead,  for  only  Amnon  is  dead  and  his 
brothers  are  safe." 

Jonadab  spoke  as  if  he  knew — did  he  know? 
Was  it  true  what  he  said?  In  another  moment  a 
man  was  pushed  up  to  David — the  man  who  kept 
watch  on  the  tower. 

"My  lord,  men  are  coming  down  the  road  from 
Beth-Horon — the  road  over  the  western  hills." 

"You  see,  my  lord,"  explained  Jonadab,  "these 
men  will  be  the  princes — it  is  as  I  said," 

In  another  moment,  before  the  dazed  king  had 
fully  realized  what  they  were  saying,  the  young  men 
rushed  into  the  room.  Breathless,  frightened, 
travel-stained,  a  sorry  contrast  to  the  pleasure 
seekers  of  the  morning,  they  too  flung  themselves 
on  the  ground  and  wept. 

At  last  David  spoke — but  so  mournfully  that 
some  of  those  who  had  known  him  longest  felt  they 
hardly  recognized  his  voice. 

"But  Absalom?  Where  is  Absalom?  Did  not 
some  one  say  he  had  done  it?  I  do  not  see  him 
here,  .  .  .     Where  is  he?" 

There  was  a  pause, 

"He  went  north,"  murmured  Adonijah. 

"He  has  gone  to  Geshur,"  said  Jonadab 
decidedly;  "he  has  gone  to  his  grandfather  Talmai, 
at  Geshur." 


290        DAVID  THE  SON  OF  JESSE 

Chapter  III 

How  had  Jonadab  known  all  this?  He  who  had 
been  the  confident  of  Amnon,  who,  as  some 
whispered,  had  suggested  the  ruse  that  had  ended 
in  the  ruin  of  Absalom's  sister,  now  appeared  as 
the  confidant  of  Absalom,  and  had  perhaps  sug- 
gested the  revenge  that  had  ended  in  Amnon's  death. 
David's  anguish  over  the  business  was  so  great  that 
he  would  not  probe  these  dark  mysteries,  but  he 
made  no  attempt  to  conceal  the  fact  that  Jonadab's 
face  was  hateful  to  him,  and  the  young  man  soon 
found  it  no  longer  worth  his  while  to  live  in  Jerusa- 
lem. He  went  to  Bethlehem,  where  his  father  had 
some  of  the  family  land  in  cultivation. 

The  blow  had  been  a  terrible  one  to  David.  It 
was  a  long  time  before  he  could  even  pretend  to 
resume  his  usual  habits,  and  all  who  were  about 
him  said  that  he  was  dreadfully  aged.  Strangely 
enough,  he  recovered  more  quickly  from  the  death 
of  Amnon  than  from  the  exile  of  Absalom.  Death 
was  so  definite,  so  unalterable,  so  plainly  the  end 
of  the  chapter,  that  David's  incurable  good  sense 
and  instinct  for  making  the  best  of  things  prevented 
any  dwelling  on  the  loss,  or  useless  repining.  But 
with  Absalom  it  was  different.     The  problem  of 


ABSALOM  291 

his  attitude  to  this  adored  son  was  an  open  wound 
which  pained  him  continuously.  Should  he  send 
for  him  back? — should  he  forgive  him? — or  had  his 
offense  been  too  great  for  that?  Amnon,  though 
not  yet  actually  anointed,  had  surely  something  of 
the  sacred  character  of  a  king — he  was,  moreover, 
Absalom's  own  brother,  and  his  father's  son.  On 
the  other  hand,  Absalom  had  had  considerable 
provocation,  and  had  doubtless  been  urged  on  by 
designing  and  unscrupulous  men.  .  .  .  What 
should  he  do?  He  could  not  tell — every  action 
seemed  alike  wretched  and  wrong,  and  in  the  help- 
lessness of  his  oscillations  he  did  nothing  at  all. 

Joab  watched  his  uncle  with  a  gruff,  obtuse 
sympathy,  and  once  or  twice  asked  him  why  he 
did  n't  send  for  the  young  man  back. 

"You  're  getting  old,  David,  and  you  're  fond  of 
the  boy,  aren't  you?" 

"Yes  ...  yes  ...  of  course  I  am.  But  I  'm 
not  as  old  as  all  that,  Joab.  After  all,  I  'm  not 
sixty  yet." 

"Yes,  but  you  've  had  a  hard  life;  it's  told  on 
you  more  than  on  me,  and  I  'm  certain  you  're 
hankering  after  Absalom." 

But  David  talked  of  something  else,  and  remained 
undecided.  At  last  Joab  felt  sure  the  thing  was 
preying  on  David's  mind.     He  had  no  particular 


292         DAVID  THE  SON  OF  JESSE 

affection  for  his  cousin,  but  he  thought  it  was  all 
great  nonsense  to  keep  him  in  exile  just  for  killing 
Amnon,  and  planned  out  a  scheme  of  his  own  to 
induce  the  king  to  forgive  him. 

A  few  weeks  afterward,  when  David  was  sitting 
in  judgment,  a  woman,  dressed  in  the  coarse  brown 
woolen  clothes  of  a  mourner,  with  dust  on  her 
head,  came  and  prostrated  herself  before  him, 
crying  out: 

"Help,  O  king!" 

"What  is  the  matter?"  asked  David;  and  she 
rose  and  explained  her  case. 

"I  am  a  woman  of  Tekoa,  and  I  am  a  widow. 
I  had  two  sons,  and  as  they  were  at  work  in  the 
field  they  quarreled  and  fought,  and  one  of  them 
killed  the  other.  Now,  then,  all  the  family  are 
against  me,  for  they  say  it  is  their  duty,  and, 
besides,  the  custom  of  the  tribes,  to  kill  the  one 
who  remains,  for  the  life  of  the  brother  he  slew. 
And  they  have  appointed  an  avenger  of  blood  who 
came  to  me  and  asked  me  to  deliver  my  only  sur- 
viving son,  that  they  may  destroy  him  and  leave 
me  without  an  heir,  and  my  dead  husband  with  no 
one  to  carry  on  his  name.  So  then,  as  I  was  afraid 
of  them,  I  said  to  myself,  'I  will  go  to  the  king, 
and  perhaps  he  will  help  me.'  " 

This  was  just  the  sort  of  case  that  David  liked. 


ABSALOM  293 

It  was  the  substitution  of  central  authority  for 
private  feuds  and  revenges,  and  he  was  convinced 
that  such  a  substitution  was  essential  for  the  power 
and  prosperity  of  the  country.  He  smiled  encourag- 
ingly at  the  petitioner, 

"Quite  right,"  he  said;  "you  can  go  home  and 
I  will  give  orders  for  the  matter  to  be  seen  to." 

The  woman  bowed  and  spread  out  her  hands. 

"If  there  is  any  sin  in  sparing  him  who  has 
shed  blood,"  said  she,  deprecatingly,  "may  it  fall 
on  me  and  my  house,  and  may  the  king  and  his 
throne  be  guiltless." 

David  thought  she  had  not  understood  him  and 
spoke  more  explicitly. 

"If  any  one  says  anything  to  you,  bring  him  to 
me,  and  he  shall  not  touch  you  or  your  son." 

She  was  apparently  not  satisfied,  but  bowed 
again,  touching  the  ground  with  her  lips. 

"Will  the  king  swear  by  Yahweh  that  the 
avenger  of  blood  shall  not  destroy  any  more?" 

"I  swear  it  by  the  life  of  Yahweh,"  said  David, 
expecting  the  woman  to  thank  him  and  retire.  To 
his  amazement  she  caught  hold  of  his  robes  and 
spoke  more  eagerly  than  before. 

"May  I  say  a  word  to  the  king?" 

David  thought  she  had  already  said  a  good  many, 
but  he  smiled  and  said:  "Speak  on." 


294        DAVID  THE  SON  OF  JESSE 

He  was  still  more  surprised  when  she  stood  up, 
pushed  back  her  veil,  and  looked  intently  at  him. 
Now  that  she  was  standing  upright  he  was  struck 
by  the  firmness  and  dignity  of  her  carriage;  her 
keen  gray  eyes  and  the  lines  on  her  face  gave  her 
a  look  of  intelligence  and  decision  which  he  had  not 
expected  from  her  somewhat  rambling  tale,  and 
when  she  spoke  her  voice  had  lost  its  slightly 
whining  tone,  and  rang  out  clear  and  strong. 

"Why  then  do  you  on  your  side  act  against  the 
people  of  God?  By  giving  this  judgment  you  show 
yourself  guilty,  for  you  yourself  have  not  brought 
home  your  own  son  who  is  banished." 

She  paused,  her  eyes  still  fixed  on  his,  and  then 
continued:  "Water  spilt  on  the  ground  cannot  be 
gathered  up;  we  must  all  die  and  it  will  then  be 
too  late  to  do  or  receive  kindness." 

Another  pause,  and  she  spoke  again. 

"Yahweh  will  surely  give  long  life  and  prosperity 
to  him  who  brings  back  the  outcast  from  worshiping 
strange  gods  in  a  strange  land,  to  Yahweh's  own 
country  where  alone  he  can  be  worshiped." 

David  leant  back,  his  mind  in  a  whirl,  his 
emotions  in  a  strange  confusion.  So  that  was  what 
her  tale  had  meant — the  fratricide,  the  blood  feud, 
the  royal  intervention  had  all  been  a  fable,  and  the 
whole  scene  was  merely  a  trap  to  get  him  to  forgive 


ABSALOM  295 

Absalom  and  bring  him  back.  But  why  should 
this  woman  of  Tekoa  intervene  in  the  affair?  Why 
should  she  trudge  fifteen  miles  to  mix  herself  in 
matters  with  which  she  had  so  little  concern?  He 
looked  at  her,  pulling  his  beard  and  considering. 
Then  he  leant  forward. 

"I  beg  you  to  answer  my  questions  truly — do 
not  conceal  anything  from  me." 

"Let  the  king  speak." 

"Is  it  Joab  who  sent  you  to  me  with  this 
story?" 

The  woman  smiled  and  her  tension  seemed  to 
relax. 

"It  is  indeed  impossible  to  hide  anything  from 
the  king.  It  was  Joab  who  charged  me  with  it  and 
told  me  what  I  was  to  say — his  object  was  that  you 
should  see  it  all  from  a  different  point  of  view. 
But  you  are  too  wise — you  have  the  wisdom  of  an 
angel  of  God,  and  understand  everything  on  the 
earth.  .  .  ." 

"Well,  Joab,"  said  David,  that  evening,  "I  have 
seen  your  wise  woman  and  heard  her  tale — you 
can  go  and  bring  Absalom  back  to  Jerusalem." 

Joab  sensibly  did  not  allow  time  for  the  king 
to  change  his  mind;  he  went  immediately  to  Geshur 
and  returned  with  the  prince.  It  was  as  well  he 
did  so,  for  by  the  time  they  got  back  David  had  had 


296        DAVID  THE  SON  OF  JESSE 

another  revulsion  of  feeling  and  refused  to  let  his 
son  come  into  his  presence.  So  things  lasted  for 
another  two  years,  until  at  last  Absalom  induced 
Joab  to  intercede  for  him  again,  and  again  at  Joab's 
suggestion  David  yielded  to  his  own  wishes.  This 
time  the  pardon  was  complete  and  official.  Ab- 
salom entered  the  room  where  his  father  sat  in 
state,  prostrated  himself,  and  kissed  the  ground; 
the  king  raised  him  to  his  feet,  put  his  arms  round 
him,  and  kissed  him  on  both  cheeks. 


Chapter  IV 

Four  years  passed,  and  with  the  advance  of  old 
age  David  felt  an  increasing  peacefulness  and 
serenity.  The  perils  and  struggles  of  his  youth, 
the  wars  and  violences  of  his  middle  age  had  faded 
into  the  background.  The  size  of  his  empire,  his 
wealth,  his  importance  among  Syrian  rulers  were 
little  short  of  marvelous.  Absalom  was  at  home 
and  forgiven — Absalom  was  his  heir  and  would 
continue  his  conquests  and  develop  his  improve- 
ments. Everything  seemed  to  have  turned  out  as 
fortunately  .as  possible,  and  if  his  own  vigor  and 


ABSALOM  297 

energy  were  not  all  that  they  had  once  been,  the 
young  man  was  there  with  the  vigor  and  energy 
of  youth. 

One  evening,  in  the  pleasant  hour  before  sunset, 
David  sat  in  his  hall  conversing  with  two  of  his 
counselors,  Hushai  the  Archite,  and  Ahitophel  the 
Gilonite.  Ahitophel  was  the  grandfather  of  Bath- 
sheba,  and  in  high  repute  at  the  court  as  a  man  of 
knowledge  and  cunning.  While  they  were  finish- 
ing their  discussion  of  some  point  of  administration, 
two  younger  men  were  lounging  on  the  cushions  at 
the  king's  feet,  carrying  on  in  a  low  tone  a  con- 
versation of  their  own.  They  were  Solomon,  a 
handsome  youth  of  nineteen,  and  Meribaal,  the  son 
of  Jonathan,  and  suddenly  Solomon  called  out,  as 
if  to  settle  the  question  in  dispute : 

"Ittai  will  know— let's  ask  him— Ittai!  come 
here !  we  want  to  ask  you  something." 

Ittai,  a  large,  heavily  built  man,  evidently  one  of 
the  king's  guards,  came  clanking  across  the  room 
to  hear  the  question. 

"You  come  from  Gath,  don't  you,  Ittai?  Well, 
Meribaal  says  some  one  told  him  the  Philistines 
had  iron  swords  long  before  the  Israelites  had  them 
—is  that  true?" 

"Oh  yes,  quite  true,"  said  Ittai;  "why,  I  remem- 


298        DAVID  THE  SON  OF  JESSE 

ber  when  I  was  a  child  the  Hebrews  had  no  smiths 
at  all,  and  used  to  bring  their  plowshares  down  to 
us  to  get  them  sharpened." 

"But  if  they  had  iron  plowshares,  why  should  n't 
they  have  swords?"  asked  Meribaal.  Ittai  shook 
his  head ;  he  could  n't  tell. 

"Well,  I  suppose  they  could  n't  get  enough  iron 
for  both,  and  wanted  the  plowshares  most,"  sug- 
gested Solomon.  "Besides,  I  suppose  the  Philistine 
smiths — and  you  say  there  were  no  Israelite  smiths 
— would  n't  make  swords  for  them." 

"But  some  Israelites  won  them  from  the  Phil- 
istines in  battle,"  said  Meribaal,  with  a  sup- 
pressed sigh.  "I  'm  sure  I  've  heard  them  say 
David  did,  in  a  wonderful  battle  against  a  whole 
army.  .  .  ." 

David,  hearing  his  name,  began  to  listen. 

"Yes,"  said  Solomon  eagerly,  "I  've  heard  some- 
thing about  it  too — there  was  something  about  a 
giant — do  you  know  about  it,  Ittai?" 

"Of  course  I  do,"  said  Ittai,  "seeing  that  the 
giant,  whose  name  was  Goliath,  came  from  the  very 
town  I  came  from.  His  father's  name  was  Raph, 
and  Raph  and  his  four  sons  were  giants,  and  ter- 
rors to  the  Hebrews." 

Ittai  noticed  that  David  was  listening  and  turned 
to  him  for  confirmation. 


ABSALOM  299 

"Weren't   Raph   and   his   sons   terrors   to   the 
Hebrews,  David?" 

"Well,   Ittai,   the  Hebrews   killed  them  all  in 
battle,  did  n't  they?" 

Ittai  threw  back  his  great  head  and  laughed,  but 
Solomon  shook  his  arm  impatiently. 

"But  tell  me  about  Goliath,  and  how  he  was 
killed." 

"Ah,  that  must  have  been  a  fine  fight.  There 
was  David — a  little  slip  of  a  thing,  younger  than 
you,  Solomon,  with  nothing  'but  his  sling  and 
shepherd's  staff — and  across  the  stream  the  giant 
all  in  bronze  armor.  'Am  I  dog,'  cried  out  the 
giant,  'that  you  come  out  against  me  with  sticks 
and  stones?  Come  to  me,'  he  cried,  'and  I  will 
give  your  flesh  to  the  birds  of  the  air  and  the  beasts 
of  the  field.'  'You  come  against  me,'  answered 
David,  quick  as  light,  'with  a  sword  and  a  spear 
and  a  javelin,  but  I  come  in  the  name  of  Yahweh 
of  Hosts  whom  you  have  defied.'  And  before 
Goliath  could  say  another  word  he  slung  a  stone  at 
him  and  killed  him  dead!" 

"And  took  his  iron  sword!"  cried  Solomon, 
jumping  up,  "and  cut  his  head  off  with  it.  Did  n't 
you.  Father?     How  splendid!     Did  n't  you?" 

"Of  course  he  did!"  answered  Ittai,  before  the 
king  could  spea,k.     David  smiled. 


300        DAVID  THE  SON  OF  JESSE 

"Why  don't  you  tell  Meribaal  about  Michmash 
and  his  father's  great  doings?"  he  asked,  and  Ittai 
looked  sulky.  He  did  not  like  to  talk  of  the 
Philistines  being  defeated  by  any  Hebrew  except 
David. 

At  this  moment  the  doorkeeper  announced  that 
Absalom  was  without  and  asked  permission  to  see 
the  king,  and  in  another  moment  the  prince  entered. 
Absalom  was  now  a  big,  handsome  man  of  thirty- 
five.  His  hair  had  lost  something  of  the  golden 
tint  it  had  in  his  youth,  but  it  was  still  silky  and 
luxuriant  and  was  dressed  with  scrupulous  care. 
His  clothes,  too,  were  rich  and  evidently  well  cared 
for,  and  he  wore  several  gold  ornaments.  His  ex- 
pression had  entirely  altered.  The  sparkle  had 
gone  out  of  his  eyes — was  there  a  shifty  look  in  its 
place? — and  the  smile  had  left  his  lips.  His  beard, 
beautifully  curled  and  scented,  was  too  small  to 
hide  the  heaviness  of  the  lower  part  of  his  face,  and 
his  full  lips  and  contracted  eyebrows  gave  him  a 
look  that  was  at  once  sensual  and  sullen. 

As  he  entered  the  room  he  glanced  quickly  at 
Ahitophel,  who  was  standing  behind  the  king's 
chair.  The  councilor  made  an  almost  impercep- 
tible movement  with  his  hand  and  his  head,  and 
Absalom  smiled  faintly.  By  this  time  he  had 
reached  David  and  made  a  gesture  as  if  to  pros- 


ABSALOM  301 

trate  himself,  but  his  father  caught  his  hand  and 
prevented  him. 

"Well,  Absalom?"  The  king  looked  up  at  him  af- 
fectionately. 

"You  are  kind  to  let  me  break  in  upon  your 
council,"  said  Absalom,  in  a  low  voice.  "Have 
you  time  to  listen  to  a  request?" 

"Yes,  yes,  certainly."  David  smiled  with  pleas- 
ure at  the  thought  of  being  able  to  do  something 
that  his  son  wanted.  "You  are  not  interrupting — 
our  council  is  over — what  is  it  you  want?" 

"I  want  leave  to  go  to  Hebron  to  pay  a  vow  to 
Yahweh.  When  I  was  in  Geshur  I  vowed  that  if 
the  Lord  brought  me  back  to  Jerusalem  I  would 
make  a  sacrifice  to  him  at  Hebron,  and  that  is  the 
vow  I  wish  to  pay." 

"By  all  means  go,"  said  David,  whose  heart  had 
stood  still  a  moment  at  the  mention  of  Absalom's 
time  of  exile.     "When  do  you  think  of  going?" 

"To-morrow,  if  you  have  no  objection." 

"No,  no  .  .  .  shall  you  take  the  httle  girl?" 
Absalom  had  brought  back  a  wife  from  Geshur, 
but  his  three  sons  had  died  in  infancy  and  his 
household  consisted  only  of  a  little  daughter  who 
had  inherited  the  family  beauty  and  was  called 
Tamar. 

"Yes,  I  want  to  take  her  with  me.     She  will  be 


302         DAVID  THE  SON  OF  JESSE 

quite  comfortable  in  the  chariot,  and  the  horses  will 
make  the  journey  a  short  one." 

"Well.  .  .  ."  David  looked  up  and  raised  his 
hand  to  bless  Absalom,  who  bowed  his  head.  The 
king's  hand  rested  on  it — to  Absalom  it  seemed  an 
age — and  then  with  a  slight  tremor  in  his  voice 
David  spoke: 

"Go  in  peace." 

And  with  those  words  in  his  ear,  and  hatred, 
treachery,  and  violence  in  his  heart,  Absalom  left 
his  father's  presence  forever. 

When  he  had  gone  Solomon  stretched  himself 
lazily,  and  muttered: 

"Is  he  going  to  Hebron  for  the  sake  of  using  his 
wonderful  chariot,  and  exercising  his  horses  and 
runners?" 

"Hush,  Solomon — don't  speak  of  your  brother 
like  that." 

"Or  does  he  want  the  people  of  Judah  to  take 
him  for  the  king?  ..." 

"What  nonsense! — you  ought  not  to  say  such 
things— ought  he,  Ahitophel?" 

But  Ahitophel  was  not  there.  He  had  slipped 
out  unperceived  in  the  darkness. 


ABSALOM  303 

Chapter  V 

It  was  not  long  before  David's  awakening.  One 
night  the  sound  of  the  trumpet  was  heard  in  the 
towns  and  villages  of  Israel,  and  the  announce- 
ment went  out,  "Absalom  is  king  in  Hebron." 
The  news  reached  Jerusalem  before  sunrise,  and 
Abishai  went  immediately  to  the  king  to  break  it 
to  him.  The  very  fact  of  Absalom's  proclamation 
stunned  David,  to  such  an  extent  that  he  sat  bereft 
of  speech  or  thought;  Abishai  had  no  idea  how  to 
rouse  him,  and  could  only  think  of  sending  in  to 
him  messenger  after  messenger  with  the  news  as 
it  arrived — first  of  the  different  tribes  that  threw 
in  their  lot  with  Absalom — then  of  the  two  hundred 
men  who  had  secretly  gone  to  Hebron  from  Jeru- 
salem— then  of  Absalom's  march  northward — ob- 
viously toward  Jerusalem,  the  capital. 

This  finally  penetrated  to  David's  mind  and 
convinced  him  that  he  must  act.  Joab,  the  only 
man  whose  advice  he  would  have  taken  at  such  a 
juncture,  was  in  southern  Syria  bringing  to  reason 
a  district  that  had  been  giving  trouble;  Ahitophel 
was  at  his  own  city  of  Giloh,  and  the  enemy  was 
marching  on  Jerusalem. 

"We  must  fly,  Abishai,"  cried  David,  starting 


304        DAVID  THE  SON  OF  JESSE 

suddenly  from  his  stupor.  "We  must  fly  ai  once; 
otherwise  we  shall  none  of  us  escape  from  Ab- 
salom. .  .  ." 

Abishai  stared  in  amazement.  Jerusalem  was 
a  fortified  town,  particularly  difficult  to  assault, 
a  messenger  would  soon  bring  Joab  and  the  army 
to  their  assistance — he  could  not  understand  what 
David  could  be  thinking  of. 

But  the  king  was  trembling  violently,  impatient 
and  irritated  at  Abishai's  hesitation. 

"Make  haste,  make  haste  and  let  us  get  away  or 
he  will  overtake  us  and  the  whole  town  will  be  put 
to  the  sword.  ..." 

Abishai  shrugged  his  shoulders  and  turned  to 
go  out  and  make  arrangements  for  the  flight. 
As  he  was  leaving  the  room  David  called  him  back 
with  nervous  impetuosity. 

"We  can't  take  all  the  women — it 's  impossible 
— they  would  delay  us  too  much — but  whatever 
happens  don't  leave  Bathsheba  behind — and  tell 
Nathan,  that  he  may  bring  Solomon." 

Abishai  nodded  and  hurried  away. 

It  was  obvious  that  if  they  were  to  fly  they  must 
fly  at  once,  and  Abishai  allowed  little  time  to  the 
household  for  their  preparations.  Instructions  had 
to  be  sent  to  Benaiah  and  Ittai,  who  commanded  the 
Philistine  guard,  Nathan  had  to  be  told  to  get 


^       ABSALOM  305 

ready,  Abiathar  and  Zadok,  the  high  priests,  had 
to  be  warned  of  the  king's  departure,  messengers 
had  to  be  sent  to  Joab  summoning  him  back  at 
once.  There  was  no  time  to  collect  stores,  they 
must  trust  to  the  friendliness  of  the  country  through 
which  they  passed — if  that  failed  them  the  guard 
could  perhaps  get  some  food  by  force,  but  it  was 
no  use  thinking  about  that.  Ten  of  the  royal  con- 
cubines, Abishai  decided,  must  be  left  behind. 
When  all  his  dispositions  were  made  he  fetched 
David,  who  silently  put  himself  at  the  head  of  the 
dismal  procession,  and  with  bowed  head  and  trem- 
bling limbs  set  out. 

And  so  a  second  time  the  son  of  Jesse  went  into 
exile.  The  first  time  he  had  been  alone,  unknown, 
unprotected,  yet  with  a  high  spirit,  superb  self- 
confidence,  and  an  almost  gay  sense  of  adventure. 
Now  he  had  a  faithful  bodyguard,  many  friends 
around  him,  the  prestige  of  a  king,  but  went  out 
miserable  and  despairing,  dazed  by  the  unexpected- 
ness and  cruelty  of  the  blow  that  had  fallen  on 
him.  If  there  was  anything  in  his  consciousness 
besides  the  agony  of  Absalom's  treachery,  it  was  the 
humiliation  of  Judah's  infidelity.  Affection  and 
pride  alike  were  wounded,  and  the  egotism  from 
which  they  both  sprang  writhed  in  torture. 

They  went  down  the  hill,  up  the  valley  of  the 


306        DAVID  THE  SON  OF  JESSE 

Kedron  as  far  as  the  last  house.  Then  Abishai 
stopped,  and  turned  to  David. 

"Of  course  you  mean  to  cross  the  Jordan.  We 
must  pass  the  Kedron  here  and  go  over  the  hill 
by  the  high  place.  The  guard  had  better  come 
first  and  see  that  all  is  secure." 

David  acquiesced  in  silence,  and  he  and  the 
household  waited  by  the  wayside  for  the  soldiers 
to  go  past. 

He  turned  and  looked  back  at  Jerusalem.  So 
different  a  town  from  the  one  he  had  seized  in  his 
strength  and  his  pride  .  .  .  the  fine  stone  houses 
shone  in  the  sun,  and  climbed  high  up  the  hill, 
while  northward  of  the  city,  almost  directly  be- 
fore him,  was  the  green  hill  of  Moriah,  crowned 
by  the  farm  buildings  of  some  Jebusite.  He  gazed 
with  an  unthinking  eye,  his  mind  absorbed  by  other 
thoughts,  yet  the  picture  made  an  unfading  im- 
pression, and  in  after  years  often  started  clearly 
into  his  imagination. 

Presently  he  turned  his  head,  and  looked  at  the 
men  who  were  streaming  by.  At  the  end  of  the 
column  came  one  or  two  officers,  and  among  them 
Ittai  the  Gittite.  The  sight  of  his  face  was  the 
first  thing  that  had  roused  David  since  the  terrible 
exodus  had  begun.  He  stopped  him  with  a  motion 
of  his  finger,  and  beckoned  him  to  come  near. 


ABSALOM  307 

"Why  do  you  come  with  us?"  he  said  in  a  weak 
voice,  and  Ittai  bent  his  head  to  make  sure  he  heard. 
"Go  back  to  Jerusalem  and  stay  with  the  king  .  .  . 
you  are  a  stranger,  an  exile  from  your  own 
home  .  .  .  you  came  but  yesterday,  and  to-day 
shall  I  make  you  go  no  one  knows  where  with 
me?  .  .  .  Return,  and  take  your  companions  with 
you,  and  may  Yahweh  show  you  mercy  and 
truth.  .  .  ." 

Ittai  had  been  grumbling  and  growling  through- 
out these  words  of  David,  and  when  the  king 
stopped  he  broke  out  in  a  great  passion. 

"As  Yahweh  lives,  and  as  the  king  lives,  wher- 
ever the  king  is,  whether  dead  or  alive,  there  will  I 
be!"  And  with  a  gesture  rare  among  the  Philis- 
tines he  bent  down  and  kissed  his  master's  feet. 
A  faint  smile  rose  to  David's  lips ;  he  put  his  hand 
on  Ittai's  head  and  said: 

"Go  then — pass  over  the  brook." 

The  mere  fact  of  having  spoken  to  some  one  had 
been  good  for  David,  and  Ittai's  loyalty  and  disin- 
terestedness had  been  balm  to  him.  More  aware 
of  his  surroundings,  he  looked  to  see  who  were 
following  the  soldiers;  it  was  a  group  of  priests 
headed  by  Abiathar  and  Zadok,  the  high  priests, 
bearing  in  their  midst  the  Ark  of  God.  The  high 
priests  made  a  sign  to  the  bearers  to  put  it  down 


308        DAVID  THE  SON  OF  JESSE 

by  the  side  of  the  road,  to  enable  the  remaining  re- 
fugees from  Jerusalem  to  cross  the  brook  before 
them.  While  they  waited  David  looked  at  them, 
and  at  last,  spoke : 

"Why  have  you  brought  the  Ark  out  of  the 
city?" 

The  priests  looked  at  him  with  amazement,  and 
Abiathar  answered: 

"The  king  and  his  soldiers  are  going  to  battle 
— should  not  Yahweh  go  with  them  to  give  them 
victory?" 

There  was  a  momentary  silence,  and  at  last 
David  spoke  with  a  firmness  that  made  Abishai 
sigh  with  relief  in  spite  of  the  alarming  nature  of 
the  order: 

"Carry  the  Ark  back.  For  if  Yahweh  is  on 
my  side  he  will  take  me  back  too,  in  safety,  to 
Jerusalem  and  the  place  where  he  dwells.  But  if 
he  no  longer  cares  for  me  why  should  I  venture  to 
take  the  Ark  with  me?  Let  Yahweh  do  as  he 
wishes." 

The  two  high  priests  stared  at  each  other  doubt- 
fully, and  Zadok  asked: 

"Are  we  all  to  return  to  Jerusalem,  also?" 

"Yes,  yes,"  answered  the  king  with  a  sigh;  "re- 
turn in  peace.  ..." 

At  that  moment  one  of  the  priests  stepped  for- 


ABSALOM  309 

ward  and  made  his  obeisance;   David  signed  to 
him  to  speak,  and  he  began  eagerly: 

"I  am  Ahimaaz,  the  son  of  Zadok,  and  here  is 
Jonathan,  the  son  of  Abiathar.  We  are  young 
men,  fast  runners.  If  we  return  to  the  city  we 
could  bring  news  to  the  king  of  how  things  go 
there.  .  .  ." 

"So  you  could;  thank  you,  my — "  David  had 
begun  to  say  "my  son,"  but  he  swallowed  the  word 
and  groaned.  "Thank  you.  We  will  wait  at  the 
fords  of  the  wilderness  till  we  hear  from  you." 

"Now,  David,"  called  Abishai,  "they  are  all  over 
— we  are  waiting  for  you." 

The  king  turned  down  to  cross  the  brook  and 
the  priests  lifted  the  Ark  and  turned  again  up  the 
hill  toward  Jerusalem.  As  David  began  the  ascent 
of  the  Mount  of  Olives  a  wave  of  despair  rushed 
over  him.  He  stooped  down,  took  off  his  sandals, 
and  throwing  his  cloak  over  his  head  burst  into 
a  flood  of  tears.  The  people  in  front,  hearing  the 
lamentations,  broke  out  in  sympathy,  and  thus 
mourning  and  wailing  they  went  up  the  hill. 

It  was  noon  when  they  reached  the  summit — 
the  high  place,  which  had  formerely  been  the 
sanctuary  of  Nob  and  had  been  destroyed  by  Saul 
because  of  the  succor  Ahimelech,  the  high  priest, 
had  given  to  David.     The  heat  of  the  day  and  the 


310        DAVID  THE  SON  OF  JESSE 

exhaustion  of  some  of  the  fugitives  made  Abishai 
decide  on  a  halt,  and  while  they  rested  he  attempted 
to  provide  some  refreshment  for  David  and  the 
women.  They  had  not  been  there  long  when  a 
group  of  men  were  seen  approaching  from  the  north, 
and  in  a  moment  Hushai  the  Archite,  his  clothes 
torn  and  dust  on  his  head,  ran  forward  and  fell  at 
David's  feet. 

"This  is  terrible  news,  my  lord,"  he  panted.  "I 
heard  as  I  came  along  that  Ahitophel  has  joined 
the  rebellion — he  made  a  great  sacrifice  as  a  corona- 
tion feast  at  Giloh  and  then  set  out  for  Hebron. 
No  doubt  he  has  been  in  the  plot,  counseling 
Absalom,  for  months." 

David  ground  his  teeth. 

"May  Yahweh  turn  his  counsel  to  folly.  .  .  ." 

"You  are  going  across  the  Jordan,  I  suppose," 
went  on  Hushai,  "and  will  make  a  stand  there. 
I  have  brought  a  few  men  with  me,  and  that  will 
be  some  help  if  we  are  pursued  before  Joab  returns." 

But  David's  instincts  for  diplomacy  were  now 
awake  again  and  he  shook  his  head. 

"If  you  come  with  me  you  will  only  be  an 
additional  encumbrance — your  men  are  not  numer- 
ous enough  to  be  of  any  real  use,  and  we  are  already 
short  of  food  and  stores.  No.  Your  business  is 
to  go  back  to  Jerusalem." 


ABSALOM  311 

"Go  back  to  Jerusalem?"  echoed  Hushai. 

"Yes;  tell  Absalom  you  are  on  his  side — he  will 
take  you  into  his  counsel,  and  you  will  be  able  to 
frustrate  Ahitophel's  advice." 

"I  might  do  something.  .  .  ."  Hushai  pon- 
dered. 

"I  'm  sure  you  might.  Besides,  Abiathar  and 
Zadok  have  also  gone  back.  You  can  let  them 
have  any  news  that  it  is  important  for  me  to  know 
and  they  will  send  it  on  by  their  sons.  In  this  way 
I  shall  still  have  both  a  tongue  and  eyes  in 
Jerusalem." 

"You  are  right,"  said  Hushai,  getting  up.  "It 
is  clearly  the  most  useful  thing  I  can  do.  .  .  . 
Well,  may  Yahweh  preserve  you  and  bring  you 
home  in  triumph." 

And  now  it  was  time  to  resume  the  journey,  and 
while  Hushai  went  west  the  king  set  off  down  the 
eastern  slope  of  the  hill,  into  the  wilderness  of 
Judea  that  led  down  to  the  Jordan.  They  had 
hardly  started  down  when  hoofs  were  heard  clatter- 
ing after  them,  and  turning  round  they  saw  Ziba, 
the  servant  of  Meribaal,  hurrying  after  them,  lead- 
ing two  heavily  laden  asses.  The  king  stopped  and 
asked  him  what  he  was  doing. 

Ziba  made  his  salutations  with  great  humility, 
and  answered: 


312         DAVID  THE  SON  OF  JESSE 

''The  asses  are  for  the  king's  household  to  ride 
on — I  have  also  brought  some  bread  and  fruit,  and 
a  skin  of  wine  in  case  any  are  faint  in  crossing  the 
wilderness." 

"And  where  is  Meribaal?"  asked  the  king,  half 
wondering  whether  the  very  welcome  refreshment 
came  from  him. 

"Meribaal?"  answered  Ziba,  with  an  almost 
imperceptible  sneer.  "Meribaal  has  remained  in 
Jerusalem,  for  he  thinks  that  he  will  now  recover 
his  father's  kingdom." 

David  flushed  darkly.  So  this  was  Meribaal's 
gratitude  for  all  the  kindness  that  had  been  shown 
him!  Let  him  see  how  Absalom  would  behave — 
let  him  recover  his  father's  kingdom  if  he  could! 
Then  glancing  at  Ziba,  who  was  bowing  before  him, 
he  thought,  "Ziba  will  expect  something  for  his 
presents  ..."  and  an  idea  flashed  upon  him. 

"You  bring  food  and  asses  just  when  they  are 
wanted,"  he  said  in  a  gracious  voice,  "and  since 
Meribaal  has  turned  traitor  you  shall  have  all  that 
belongs  to  him — ^land,  houses,  and  stores — ^it  is 
yours  from  henceforward." 

Ziba  flung  himself  on  the  ground,  crying: 

"I  do  obeisance — may  I  find  favor  in  my  lord 
the  king's  sight,"  mumbling  the  king's  feet  with  his 


ABSALOM  313 

lips  and  rubbing  his  forehead  in  the  dust.  Even 
David  could  not  help  feeling  a  little  disgusted  at 
his  servility,  and  one  of  his  men  whispered  to 
another: 

"And  now  the  faithful  Ziba  returns  to  Jerusalem 
to  play  the  same  trick  on  Absalom." 

The  journey  across  the  wilderness  was  a  painful 
one,  but  thanks  to  the  asses  which  were  ridden  in 
turn  by  the  women  and  children,  and  the  wine  which 
stimulated  the  most  exhausted,  they  got  through  it 
without  disaster.  At  last  they  came  in  sight  of 
Bahurim,  a  village  on  the  edge  of  the  desert,  and 
about  four  miles  from  the  Jordan.  The  sinking 
spirits  of  the  travelers  began  to  revive,  for  they 
were  now  near  the  night's  resting  place — it  would 
be  impossible  to  cross  the  river  before  morning,  and 
indeed  David  did  not  intend  to  attempt  it  till  they 
had  had  news  from  Jerusalem. 

The  village  of  Bahurim  lay  in  the  cleft  of  a 
ravine,  and  as  they  tramped  down  the  road,  wild 
and  jagged  rocks  rose  alongside  the  track.  Sud- 
denly David's  attention  was  called  by  a  fierce  shout 
above  him ;  he  raised  his  eyes,  and  a  strange  figure 
stood  before  him.  It  was  a  very  tall,  thin  man — 
almost  seven  feet  high,  and  thin  to  the  stage  of 
emaciation;    he   was   completely   naked,    and   his 


314        DAVID  THE  SON  OF  JESSE 

scanty  white  hair  and  beard  streamed  wildly  in 
the  wind;  his  right  arm  was  raised  and  a  long  thin 
finger  pointed  menacingly  at  the  king. 

David,  and  Abishai  who  was  walking  beside  him, 
stopped  in  amazement  and  stared  at  this  apparition. 
Immediately  he  began  to  pour  forth,  in  a  voice 
hoarse  with  fury  and  rage,  a  torrent  of  imprecations : 

"Begone,  begone,  thou  man  of  blood  and  man  of 
Belial!  Now  will  Yahweh  be  revenged  for  all  the 
blood  of  the  house  of  Saul  which  thou  hast  spilt, 
whose  kingdom  thou  hast  seized!  I,  Shimei,  son 
of  Gera,  of  the  tribe  of  Benjamin,  curse  thee  in  the 
name  of  Yahweh!  Yahweh  hath  delivered  thy 
kingdom  into  the  hand  of  Absalom  thy  son ;  behold ! 
thou  art  taken  in  thy  own  mischief,  because  thou 
art  a  man  of  blood ! " 

By  this  time  Abishai  had  recovered  himself,  and 
seizing  his  sword  turned  eagerly  to  David  for  in- 
structions. David  was  standing  quite  silent,  his 
eyes  fixed  on  Shimei,  a  wretched  expression  on  his 
face.     At  last  Abishai  pulled  his  sleeve  and  said: 

"Why  should  this  dead  dog  curse  the  king?  Let 
me  go  over  and  take  off  his  head." 

But  David  shook  his  head. 

"No,  no,  Abishai,  let  him  curse.  If  Yahweh 
said  to  him  curse  David,  why  should  we  question 
it?     Even  my  own  son  is  seeking  my  life — how 


ABSALOM  315 

much  more  may  a  Benjamite?     Let  him  alone,  and 
let  him  curse,  for  Yahweh  has  told  him  to." 

He  sighed  and  began  the  march  again.  Shimei 
caught  up  a  stone  and  threw  it  at  David  with  a 
vindictive  yell;  and  as  the  Israelites  passed  along 
the  ravine  he  leapt  beside  them  from  rock  to  rock, 
throwing  stones  and  dust,  and  screaming  curses  on 
the  king.  At  last  they  outdistanced  him,  and  glanc- 
ing back,  Abishai  saw  the  long  thin  figure  still 
leaping  and  waving  his  arms,  though  his  voice  no 
longer  reached  the  ears  of  his  enemy. 


Chapter  VI 

That  night  and  the  following  morning  David 
stayed  on  the  west  bank  of  the  Jordan.  Abishai 
was  beginning  to  get  very  nervous — he  saw  no  point 
whatever  in  delaying  to  put  the  broad  river  between 
them  and  their  foes— but  he  had  no  influence  with 
the  king,  who  was  set  on  waiting  for  news  from 
Jerusalem. 

The  news  came  shortly  after  noon,  and  was 
brought  by  Ahimaaz  and  Jonathan.  They  had 
been  quite  successful  in  getting  into  touch  with 
Hushai,  and  a  plan  had  been  made  by  which  they 


316        DAVID  THE  SON  OF  JESSE 

could  continue  regularly  bringing  messages  to  the 
king  from  the  city.  It  had  been  agreed  that  it 
would  be  best  for  the  young  men  not  to  be  seen 
going  in  and  out  of  Jerusalem,  so  they  were  to  hide 
by  the  spring  Enrogel,  to  the  southeast  of  the  town, 
where  the  valley  of  Hinnom  joins  the  valley  of 
Kedron.  Hushai  would  send  his  slave  girl  down 
from  time  to  time  with  any  information  it  seemed 
necessary  to  send  to  David. 

Their  present  news  was  on  the  whole  satisfactory. 
Hushai  had  managed  to  get  into  Absalom's  confi- 
dence. There  had  been  a  great  council  at  which 
both  Ahitophel  and  Hushai  had  spoken.  Ahitophel 
had  urged  an  immediate  attack  on  David  before  he 
had  time  to  collect  an  army ;  Hushai  had  advocated 
a  more  thorough  policy.  Absalom  was  to  wait  till 
he  had  gathered  all  Israel  around  him — "from  Dan 
to  Beersheba — as  the  sand  that  is  by  the  sea  is 
numbered — "  then  they  were  to  fall  suddenly  on 
David  and  of  him  and  his  men  not  one  would  be 
left.  Luckily  Hushai's  eloquence  was  successful, 
and  Absalom  had  decided  to  wait  before  pursuing 
David.  But  Hushai  strongly  recommended  David 
to  cross  the  Jordan  at  once,  lest  after  all  Absalom 
should  change  his  mind  and  Ahitophel  prevail. 

Ahimaaz  had  another  piece  of  news  which  he 
tactfully  kept  for  Abishai's  private  ear.     In  the 


ABSALOM  317 

evening  the  people  of  Jerusalem  had  seen  a  tent 
spread  on  the  roof  of  David's  house;  presently 
Absalom  had  appeared,  and  in  the  face  of  every 
one  had  gone  in  to  his  father's  concubines.  This 
had  naturally  caused  a  good  deal  of  talk.  It  was 
admitted  that  there  was  now  no  hope  of  reconciling 
the  father  and  son,  and  that  Absalom  was  claiming 
his  rights  as  the  actual  king,  and  many  whispered 
that  the  step  had  been  taken  on  Ahitophel's  advice. 

Abishai  shrugged  his  shoulders.  He  did  not 
attach  much  importance  one  way  or  the  other  to 
such  matters,  and  frankly  admitted  that  questions 
of  policy  were  beyond  him.  He  was  fully  occupied 
with  the  urgent  necessity  of  getting  the  fugitives 
over  the  Jordan  before  nightfall,  and  by  the  most 
strenuous  efforts  this  was  achieved. 

The  next  day  they  set  off  northward  for 
Mahanaim,  the  former  capital  of  Ishbaal.  David 
complained  bitterly  to  Abishai,  as  they  went,  that  it 
was  his  own  tribe  of  Judah  that  was  playing  him 
false,  and  that  he  was  obliged  to  turn  to  the 
Gileadites  for  help  in  his  adversity. 

"The  men  of  Hebron  are  angry,  no  doubt,  that 
their  city  is  no  longer  the  chief  one,  and  all  the 
tribes  of  the  South  are  jealous  of  the  Israelites." 

Abishai  shook  his  head,  and  said  it  was  a  shame, 
but  his  thoughts  were  occupied  with  wondering  how 


318        DAVID  THE  SON  OF  JESSE 

soon  they  could  expect  to  effect  a  junction  with 
Joab. 

The  next  day  they  were  joined  again  by  Ahimaaz 
and  Jonathan.  The  two  young  men  had  had  a  nar- 
row escape,  for  as  they  were  leaving  their  hiding 
place  they  had  been  seen  by  a  boy  who  reported  it 
to  Absalom,  and  a  body  of  scouts  had  been  sent 
after  them.  When  they  reached  Bahurim  the  pur- 
suers were  hot  on  their  trail,  and  they  only  escaped 
by  taking  refuge  in  a  well  in  the  courtyard  of  one 
of  the  inhabitants.  Absalom's  men  actually  came 
to  the  woman  of  the  house  and  asked  if  she  had  seen 
them,  and  she  answered  yes,  they  had  passed  half 
an  hour  ago,  and  would  be  across  the  Jordan  before 
they  could  be  stopped.  This  had  discouraged  the 
soldiers,  who  had  gone  back  to  Jerusalem,  while 
Ahimaaz  and  Jonathan  continued  their  journey  in 
safety. 

David  listened  to  the  tale  of  adventure  with  an 
interest  he  could  hardly  give  to  the  report  of  Ahito- 
phel's  suicide  and  Amasa's  appointment  as  com- 
mander in  chief.  The  story  took  him  back  to  his 
youth,  and  all  day  he  walked  as  it  were  in  a  trance, 
dreaming  of  the  old  days  of  outlawry,  peril,  and 
happiness.  For  surely,  after  all,  those  had  been 
his  happiest  years,  though  he  had  not  known  it  at 
the  time.  .  .  .     Then  he  had  been  always  dreaming 


ABSALOM  319 

of  the  time  when  he  would  be  king— now  that  he 
was  the  king  he  was  the  most  miserable  man  in  the 
kingdom. 

After  this  adventure  Ahimaaz  and  Jonathan  did 
not  return  to  Jerusalem,  but  went  on  with  the  king. 
They  did  not  think  it  would  be  safe  to  go  back; 
besides,  it  was  no  longer  necessary,  for  Absalom 
and  Amasa  would  not  be  long  before  they  took 
their  army  across  the  Jordan,  and  a  conflict  could 
not  now  be  avoided.  That  night  Abishai  had  a 
message  from  Joab  to  say  that  he  was  going  direct 
to  Mahanaim  and  would  meet  them  there,  and  on 
the  following  evening  the  foot-sore  king  and  his 
companions  found  themselves  in  at  any  rate  tem- 
porary safety  behind  the  fortified  walls  of  the  chief 
town  of  Gilead. 

Chapter  VII 

Directly  the  news  got  abroad  of  David's  arrival 
at  Mahanaim  food  and  stores  began  pouring  in 
from  the  neighboring  country.  Among  those  who 
thus  showed  their  loyalty  was  Shobi,  the  brother  of 
Hanum,  who  had  been  made  governor  of  Ammon 
after  the  defeat  and  deposition  of  his  brother.  His 
fidelity  was  a  great  ground  of  satisfaction  to  David, 
proving  as  it  did  the  pacification  of  the  Ammonites, 


320        DAVID  THE  SON  OF  JESSE 

and  his  own  wisdom  in  selecting  Shobi  as  governor. 
Many  chieftains  sent  in  part  of  their  flocks  and 
dairy  produce,  to  help  feed  the  army,  and  in  par- 
ticular a  Gileadite  chief  called  Barzillai  was  pro- 
fuse in  his  offerings.  He  was  an  old  man  of  eighty, 
still  very  robust  and  active,  and  he  presented  him- 
self every  day  before  the  king  to  find  out  if  anything 
in  particular  was  needed.  The  house  of  one  of  the 
most  important  citizens  was  taken  over  for  Bath- 
sheba  and  the  women,  and  David  was  accommo- 
dated not  far  off. 

Meanwhile  Joab  had  been  organizing  and  ex- 
ercising his  men,  hearing  the  reports  of  the  scouts, 
and  holding  council  wnth  his  officers.  The  day 
came  when  he  went  to  David  with  the  news  that 
Absalom  was  now  in  the  near  neighborhood;  he 
proposed  that  the  army  should  go  out  to  meet  him 
in  three  divisions,  under  Abishai,  Ittai,  and  him- 
self, while  David  remained  in  the  city  with  a  body 
of  reserves. 

"Do  as  you  think  best,"  said  the  king,  listlessly. 
Joab  told  him  they  would  start  in  the  morning,  and 
left  him. 

During  these  days  of  preparation  under  the  able 
generalship  of  Joab,  David  had  quite  recovered 
from  the  panic  into  which  he  had  fallen  on  first 
receiving  the  unexpected  news  of  rebellion.     He 


ABSALOM  321 

now  felt  that  as  far  as  his  person  and  his  throne 
were  concerned  he  was  secure,  for  he  was  positive 
that  Absalom  and  Amasa,  with  their  untrained 
levies,  would  be  quite  unable  to  get  the  better  of  his 
veterans,  commanded  as  they  were  by  the  sons  of 
Zeruiah.  His  fears  now  were  all  on  the  other  side. 
Poor  Absalom!  What  would  become  of  him?  He 
might  be  killed  in  the  battle — he  might  be  taken 
prisoner  and  killed  in  cold  blood.  ...  He  did 
not  know  how  to  face  these  possibilities,  and  brooded 
over  them  despairingly,  till  he  could  think  of  nothing 
else.  Joab's  schemes,  his  own  part  in  the  conflict, 
the  safety  of  Mahanaim  and  the  loyalist  party, 
were  matters  of  indifference  to  him — he  cared  only 
to  secure,  in  one  way  or  another,  the  life  of  Absalom. 

By  sunrise  the  army  was  marshaled  outside  the 
south  gate,  and  David  came  out  to  see  them  start. 
During  the  long  sleepless  hours  of  the  night  he  had 
thought  of  a  way — a  chance,  at  least,  of  saving  his 
son — after  all  "why  should  he  not  be  made  prisoner 
and  brought  back  for  judgment?  Surely  it  might 
be  managed.     Why  not? 

When  he  reached  the  troops  he  sent  for  Joab. 

"You  have  three  divisions,  haven't  you?"  he 
asked,  "make  them  march  out  past  me  with  their 
captains — and  place  the  captains  on  this  side,  so 
that  they  '11  come  near  me  as  they  go." 


322        DAVID  THE  SON  OF  JESSE 

Joab  shrugged  his  shoulders,  but  told  Abishai 
and  Ittai,  and  then  went  to  give  the  orders  to  his 
own  division.  After  all  it  didn't  much  matter 
how  they  marched — David's  way  would  do  as  well 
as  another,  and  the  main  thing  was  for  them  to  start 
soon. 

The  march  past  began — ^Joab  thought  David 
was  saying  something  to  each  captain  that  went 
by — some  good  wish,  he  supposed,  for  the  favor  of 
Yahweh.  Then  a  young  man  came  running,  with 
word  that  the  king  wished  to  speak  to  Joab,  Abishai, 
and  Ittai.  Joab  was  vexed  at  being  taken  away 
from  his  supervision  of  the  men,  and  went  along 
growling  to  himself.  Abishai  and  Ittai  came  up 
just  as  he  did,  and  suddenly  the  king  called  out  in 
a  ringing  voice,  that  must  have  reached  the  ears  of 
many  of  the  soldiers : 

"Listen  to  my  command,  sons  of  Zeruiah  and 
Ittai  the  Gittite.  For  my  sake  deal  gently  with 
Absalom — ^let  no  one  touch  him  to  hurt  him." 

Joab  bit  his  lip  in  anger. 

"What  folly  is  this?"  he  thought  to  himself. 
"So  this  is  the  rubbish  for  which  he  has  been  alter- 
ing our  marching  order  and  keeping  us  running  to 
and  fro  like  slaves  .  .  .  Deal  gentlywith  Absalom! 
If  only  I  get  a  chance  of  dealing  with  him!   .  .  ." 


ABSALOM  323 

It  was  not  likely  that  any  news  of  the  battle 
would  reach  Mahanaim  before  evening,  yet  all  day 
long  the  king  sat  by  the  gate.  There  were  two 
gates,  an  outer  and  an  inner,  with  a  small  enclosure 
between  them  lined  with  stone  benches.  Above 
the  enclosure  there  was  a  little  room  for  the  watch- 
man, the  roof  of  which  was  on  a  level  with  the  city 
wall.  David's  restless  anxiety  kept  him  wandering 
around  the  gatehouse — sometimes  sitting  on  one  of 
the  benches,  sometimes  climbing  to  the  room  above 
the  gate,  sometimes  walking  along  the  wall,  waiting 
and  wondering  in  an  agony  of  apprehension. 

The  shadows  were  beginning  to  lengthen  when, 
worn  out  by  his  agitation,  he  sat  down  in  the  en- 
closure and  fell  asleep.  The  voice  of  the  watchman 
woke  him  with  a  start. 

"Look!  look!     A  man  running  alone ! " 

"Alone!"  cried  David;  "then  he  is  a  messenger 
— if  he  were  a  fugitive  there  would  be  others." 

"He  comes  nearer  and  nearer,"  called  down  the 
watchman;  and  then,  suddenly,  "Another  man  run- 
ning alone ! " 

"Another  messenger!" — David  jumped  up  and 
went  to  the  gate,  but  the  runners  were  still  too  far 
off  for  him  to  distinguish  them  clearly.  Presently 
the  watchman  called  down  again : 


324        DAVID  THE  SON  OF  JESSE 

*'I  think  by  his  running  the  first  man  is  Ahimaaz, 
son  of  Zadok." 

"He  is  a  good  man,"  muttered  David  to  himself, 
"and  doubtless  brings  good  news";  and  he  leant  up 
against  the  gate  and  waited. 

In  another  moment  Ahimaaz  was  within  hail;  he 
recognized  the  king  and,  touching  his  head,  called 
out:  "Peace  be  with  you!" 

David  felt  he  could  not  speak — something  was 
clutching  his  throat.  Ahimaaz  was  now  quite  near ; 
he  bowed  to  the  ground  and  said : 

"Blessed  be  Yahweh,  God  of  Israel,  who  delivered 
into  our  hands  those  who  fought  against  the  king." 

"It  is  a  victory,"  David  thought;  and  at  last 
managed  to  speak : 

"Is  Absalom  safe?" 

Why  did  not  Ahimaaz  answer?  Why  was  he 
looking  at  him  so  strangely?  Why  did  he  hang 
his  head  and  answer  in  such  a  different  voice. 

"When  I  left  Joab,  fighting  was  still  going  on — 
I  'm  not  sure." 

"Well,"  said  David  with  a  sigh,  "wait  here  in 
the  gateway,"  and  he  turned  to  the  second  messenger 
who  had  just  come  up.  This  man  was  a  negro,  a 
slave  of  Joab's  whom  he  had  specially  trained  as 
a  runner.     He  did  obeisance  and  spoke : 


ABSALOM  325 

"Good  news.  Yahweh  has  to-day  done  vengeance 
on  all  who  rose  against  you." 

Again  David  asked  his  one  question : 

"Is  Absalom  safe?" 

The  negro  kissed  the  ground  at  the  king's  feet 
before  he  answered: 

"May  the  king's  enemies  and  all  who  rise  against 
you  be  as  that  young  man  is." 

Dead!  It  was  the  long-expected  end  to  the 
dreary  hours,  not  the  less  overwhelming  for  having 
been  expected.  He  turned  blindly  away,  and  crept 
up  the  stairs  to  the  little  room  above  the  gate,  crying 
and  moaning  as  he  went  .  .  .  "O  my  son  Absalom, 
my  son,  my  son  Absalom  .  .  .  would  God  I  had 
died  for  thee!  .  .  .  O  Absalom,  my  son,  my 
son.  .  .  ." 

In  about  an  hour  the  first  groups  of  the  victorious 
army  began  to  return.  They  swung  along,  singing, 
laughing,  and  triumphant,  all  ready  for  the  joyful 
welcome  they  were  expecting.  In  the  gateway  sat 
Ahimaaz  with  a  face  of  such  desolation  that  one  or 
two  of  the  men  asked  what  ailed  him.  He  pointed 
upward ;  and  from  the  watchman's  room  they  heard 
the  wail  of  despair: 

"O  my  son  Absalom.  .  .  .  O  Absalom  my 
son  .  .  .  my  son.  .  .  ." 


326        DAVID  THE  SON  OF  JESSE 

This  was  a  sorry  welcome  .  .  .  they  looked  at 
each  other  with  guilty  eyes;  their  songs  and  laughter 
were  silenced,  and  they  crept  quietly  to  their  quar- 
ters. The  news  of  David's  grief  soon  spread  among 
all  the  returning  soldiers,  and  they  stole  back  into 
the  city  without  a  sound — ^part  sympathizing  with 
the  father's  sorrow,  part  afraid  of  the  king's  dis- 
pleasure, part  resentful  at  his  indifference  to  their 
triumph.  At  last  Joab  heard  of  what  was  going 
on.  He  was  not  far  from  Mahanaim  at  the  time, 
but  he  pushed  on  as  quickly  as  he  could  and,  reach- 
ing the  gate,  strode  up  to  the  room  where  the  king 
was.  He  lay  on  the  ground  on  his  face,  still 
sobbing,  still  ejaculating  his  son's  name,  oblivious 
of  all  else. 

Joab  caught  him  by  the  shoulder  and  pulled  him 
roughly  around. 

"So  this  is  the  thanks  we  get,"  he  said  bitterly, 
"for  saving  your  life  and  the  lives  of  your  women 
and  children — you  make  it  clear  to  every  one  that 
if  Absalom  had  lived  and  we  had  all  been  killed  you 
would  have  been  well  pleased — you  love  those  that 
hate  you,  and  hate  those  that  love  you." 

David  was  silent.  At  last  he  raised  his  head 
and  said  feebly:  "What  do  you  want?" 

"I  want  this,"  answered  Joab,  "and  mind,  if  you 
don't  do  it,  the  worst  will  happen  that  you  've  had 


ABSALOM  327 

yet — I  want  you  to  get  up  and  go  out  to  the  soldiers 
and  speak  cheerfully  to  them — enter  into  their  vic- 
tory— thank  them  for  what  they  've  done — I  swear 
by  the  Lord  that  if  you  don't  not  one  man  will  stay 
with  you  through  the  night." 

"Very  well."  David  slowly  began  to  rise  from 
the  ground.  Joab  put  out  his  hand  to  help  him, 
and  baring  his  arm  showed  a  streak  of  dry  blood 
stretching  from  his  wrist  to  his  elbow.  David's 
.eyes  dilated;  he  shuddered  violently  and  shrank 
away  from  his  nephew.  He  staggered  to  his  feet, 
and  crept  down  the  staircase  alone,  to  sit  all  through 
the  night  in  the  gateway  and  rejoice  with  the  soldiers 
over  the  glorious  victory.  Joab  stood  motionless 
in  the  empty  room  and  looked  at  the  blood  on  his 
arm. 


Chapter  VIII 

In  spite  of  the  fact  that  Absalom  was  dead,  and 
the  rebellion  had  thus  lost  at  a  blow  its  reason 
and  its  leader,  many  negotiations  had  to  be  entered 
into  before  David  could  return  safely  to  Jerusalem. 
Israel  was  in  a  ferment,  the  smaller  men  on  the 
whole  wishing  to  recall  the  king,  while  some  of 


328        DAVID  THE  SON  OF  JESSE 

the  more  important  chiefs  felt  that  the  occasion  was 
propitious  for  shaking  off  the  overlordship  of  a  man 
from  Judah.  A  few  well-chosen  messages,  and  the 
gracious  reception  of  a  deputation  from  the  North- 
ern tribes  soon  weighted  the  balance  in  David's  fa- 
vor, and  it  became  apparent  that  his  return  would  be 
well  received  by  them.  To  the  men  of  Judah  he 
sent  special  envoys  in  the  persons  of  Abiathar  and 
Zadok,  pointing  out  that  he  had  already  received 
advances  from  the  Israelites,  reminding  them  of 
his  relationship  to  themselves  and  claiming  that  his 
own  flesh  and  blood  ought  to  be  his  best  and  dearest 
support.  There  was  no  word  of  punishment  or 
disgrace.  Amasa,  indeed,  was  actually  offered  the 
command  of  the  army  in  the  place  of  his  cousin 
Joab.  This,  David  explained  to  the  council  of 
officers,  was  essential  to  his  whole  scheme  of  diplo- 
macy .  .  .  and  the  announcement  was  received  in 
dead  silence — not  a  man  ventured  to  protest. 

The  conduct  of  these  negotiations  was  David's 
great  resource;  during  the  weeks  succeeding  the 
battle  in  the  forest  of  Ephraim  he  toiled  at  them 
with  unremitting  energy,  trying  desperately  to  heal 
his  wounds — or  at  least  forget  them  for  some  hours 
every  day. 

At  last  his  work  drew  to  a  successful  conclusion ; 
the  chiefs  of  Judah  sent,  begging  him  to  reurn  with 


ABSALOM  329 

his  household,  and  informing  him  that  they  would 
themselves  go  down  to  the  ford  of  Gilgal  to  meet 
him.  The  departure  from  Mahanaim  was  there- 
fore arranged,  and  Barzillai  at  his  own  special  re- 
quest accompanied  the  king  as  far  as  the  Jordan 
with  two  of  his  sons  and  a  small  guard  of  honor. 

And  so  David  started  out  for  his  triumphal  return 
to  Jerusalem.  Again  it  had  been  shown  that  he 
was  the  special  favorite  of  Yahweh,  his  enemies  had 
been  destroyed,  his  kingdom  was  consolidated,  and 
all  his  ambitions  were  satisfied — why  was  it  that 
success  had  the  bitter  taste  of  defeat? 

On  the  third  day  they  arrived  at  the  bank  of  the 
Jordan.  On  the  other  side  was  a  camp — obviously 
the  tents  of  the  chiefs  of  Judah.  Ziba  suddenly 
rushed  down  the  slope  of  the  opposite  bank,  jumped 
into  a  boat  which  he  seemed  to  have  procured,  and 
was  soon  busily  occupied  in  ferrying  across  those 
of  the  king's  household  who  disliked  the  idea  of 
wetting  their  feet — Bathsheba  was  the  first  to  be 
taken  over.  David  noticed  a  tall,  lean,  naked  figure 
on  the  western  bank;  he  turned,  and  saw  Abishai 
beside  him. 

"Ah,  Abishai,"  said  David,  "look  at  that  man; 
is  he  not  the  wild  Benjamite  who  cursed  us  as  we 
left  Jerusalem?" 

"It  is  like  him,  certainly,"  answered  Abishai, 


330        DAVID  THE  SON  OF  JESSE 

"but  I  wonder  he  has  the  audacity  to  appear  before 
us." 

At  this  moment  Barzillai  approached  the  king 
and  asked  him  to  cross — Chimham  his  son  was 
there  ready  to  lead  his  ass  through  the  water. 
David  came  forward,  and  in  another  moment  was 
making  his  way  over  the  river.  As  he  came  near 
the  landing  stage  Shimei — for  he  it  was — rushed 
forward  and  made  an  obeisance.  He  then  jumped 
up  again  and  began  shouting  in  his  fierce,  hoarse 
voice : 

"Do  not  be  angry  with  me,  O  king,  do  not 
remember  against  me  what  I  did  on  the  day  you 
left  Jerusalem.  I  was  wrong — I  did  wrong  that 
day,  and  to-day  I  am  the  first  of  the  house  of  Joseph 
to  come  down  and  welcome  the  king." 

By  this  time  David  had  landed,  and  Abishai, 
who  had  crossed  beside  him,  spoke  before  he  could 
answer. 

"Let  me  put  the  old  villain  to  death — did  n't  he 
curse  the  Lord's  anointed?" 

David  had  an  access  of  irritation. 

"Leave  me  alone,"  he  said  sharply;  "you  sons 
of  Zeruiah  are  too  ready  to  kill,  and  I  say  that 
to-day  no  man  shall  be  put  to  death  in  Israel.  Do 
you  hear,  Shimei?  You  shall  not  die;  I  swear  it 
by  the  life  of  Yahweh." 


ABSALOM  331 

At  this  moment  Barzillai  came  up  to  take  leave 
of  the  king,  and  Daivd,  who  had  grown  attached  to 
him,  looked  at  him  with  regret. 

"Must  you  leave  me?"  he  said  with  a  tinge  of 
sadness.  "Come  over  with  me  and  let  me  show  you 
hospitality  in  Jerusalem  as  you  did  to  me  in 
Mahanaim." 

Barzillai  touched  his  head  and  his  breast. 

"I  am  too  old  to  make  a  new  home,"  he  answered, 
"and  I  am  too  old  to  enjoy  your  delicacies  and 
ceremonies — your  food  and  drink  and  your  singing 
men  and  women.  I  should  only  be  a  burden  to  you; 
let  me  go  back  to  Gilead.  But  here  is  my  son 
Chimham — he  would  delight  in  your  novelties  and 
might  be  of  some  service  to  you — let  him  go  with 
you  instead  of  me." 

"Chimham  shall  come,"  answered  the  king,  "and 
if  at  any  time  I  can  be  of  service  to  you  send  me 
word."  Barzillai  touched  his  head  again,  embraced 
his  son,  and  returned  across  the  Jordan. 

By  this  time  the  chiefs  of  Judah  were  ready  to 
claim  the  king,  coming  eagerly  forward,  making 
obeisance,  welcoming  him  back,  invoking  the  bless- 
ing of  Yahweh.  In  the  midst  of  these  rejoicings 
a  tumult  was  heard  and  a  band  of  Israelites  pushed 
their  way  forward.  They  were  evidently  heated 
with  a  hurried  journey,  and  were,  besides,  full  of 


332        DAVID  THE  SON  OF  JESSE 

grievances.  One  of  them  in  particular,  a  Benjam- 
ite,  Sheba,  the  son  of  Bichri,  could  hardly  contain 
himself  enough  to  salute  the  king. 

"What  is  the  matter,  Sheba?"  David  asked.  By 
this  time  he  was  beginning  to  feel  worn  out.  He 
was  sure  by  the  look  of  things  that  there  was  going 
to  be  a  dispute  between  the  tribesmen,  and  though 
he  knew  he  ought  to  avert  it  he  was  afraid  he  was 
not  equal  to  the  occasion. 

"We  want  to  know  how  it  comes  about  that  only 
the  men  of  Judah  have  been  given  the  opportunity 
of  coming  to  receive  the  king?  Are  not  all  David's 
men  his  people?" 

"Certainly,"  answered  David;  "no  slight  is  in- 
tended to  the  Israelites.  .  .  ." 

"And  yet,"  called  out  a  chief  from  near  Bethle- 
hem, "it  is  but  right  that  we  should  be  more  favored, 
for  the  king  is  of  our  tribe." 

"Yes,"  shouted  another  from  Hebron,  "but  what 
advantage  have  we  received  from  that?  Do  we 
eat  more  often  than  you  at  the  king's  table?  Or 
do  we  receive  gifts  from  him?" 

Sheba  shrugged  his  shoulders. 

"But  I  say  that  we  of  the  North  should  have  ten 
parts  in  the  king,  and  I  say  that  we  are  the  first- 
born— and  I  say  that  it  is  we  who  spoke  first  of 
bringing  back  the  king.  ..." 


ABSALOM  333 

By  this  time  David  was  feeling  quite  exhausted. 
He  beckoned  to  one  of  the  men  of  Judah,  and  lean- 
ing on  his  arm  made  his  way  to  a  tent,  and  sat 
down  to  recover.  He  heard  the  voices  of  the  dis- 
putants growing  shriller  and  more  unreasonable, 
until  suddenly  there  was  a  sound  of  a  trumpet. 
Then  Sheba's  voice  rang  out — he  was  too  far  away 
for  the  king  to  hear  all  he  said,  but  he  caught  the 
words  "nothing  .  .  .  David  .  .  .  son  of  Jesse" 
and  then  a  roar  "to  your  tents,  O  Israel."  Then 
there  was  a  sound  of  running  feet,  and  a  clatter  of 
asses'  hoofs.  .  .  .  David  leant  back  and  shut  his 
eyes. 

"So  now  the  Israelites  are  in  rebellion  .  .  ."  he 
thought. 


Chapter  IX 

At  any  rate,  the  men  of  Judah  were  loyal  enough. 
The  return  to  Jerusalem  the  next  day  was  made 
by  them  into  a  triumphal  procession;  even  the 
wearisome  journey  through  the  wilderness  was 
alleviated  by  a  constant  supply  of  asses  and  plenty 
of  skins  of  wine  and  water.  When  they  reached 
the  top  of  the  Mount  of  Olives,  Jerusalem  lay  at 


334         DAVID  THE  SON  OF  JESSE 

their  feet  and  was  near  enough  for  them  to  see  that 
it  was  gaily  decorated  with  green  boughs  and  gaily 
colored  stuffs  in  honor  of  the  king's  return.  Soon 
the  inhabitants  came  streaming  out  to  meet  him, 
shouting  and  singing,  clapping  their  hands  and 
waving  their  branches,  and  crying  out  as  they 
came: 

"Blessed  is  the  king  of  Israel  .  .  .  blessed  is  *he 
who  comes  in  the  name  of  the  Lord.  .  .  ." 

They  had  hardly  crossed  the  Kedron  when 
amongst  the  rejoicing  crowd  a  pathetic  figure  came 
into  sight.  It  was  Meribaal,  riding  an  ass,  his 
clothes  in  disorder,  his  beard  uncared  for.  David 
heard  the  people  round  him  murmuring  that  he  had 
not  changed  his  clothes,  but  had  lived  like  a 
mourner  all  the  time  that  the  king  had  been  away. 
Was  this  possible?  Had  not  Ziba  said  he  too  was 
a  traitor?  David  looked  up,  his  heart  like  lead. 
It  was  in  Jerusalem  that  he  had  last  seen  his  beau- 
tiful Absalom — and  Absalom,  strong,  fearless, 
heroic,  was  dead,  while  Meribaal,  a  useless  cripple, 
was  alive.  .  .  .  He  heard  Meribaal's  greetings 
with  a  deaf  ear,  and  when  they  were  over  said  in 
a  voice  of  icy  coldness : 

"Why  did  you  not  come  with  me,  Meribaal?" 

"I  meant  to  come,  my  lord,  but  my  servant  Ziba 
deceived  me.     He  took  my  ass  that  I  had  meant  to 


ABSALOM  335 

ride  on  because  of  my  lameness,  and  I  was  left 
helpless.     And  he  slandered  me  to  you.  .  .  ." 

As  Meribaal  looked  at  the  king  he  began  to 
shiver.  Something  terrible  had  evidently  happened, 
and  it  was  no  use  going  on — if  only  David  would 
believe  he  could  not  have  been  his  enemy.  ...  He 
made  a  gesture  of  resignation. 

"The  king  is  an  angel  of  God.  Do  what  seems 
good  to  you.  For  when  all  my  father's  house  were 
dead  you  brought  me  into  your  own  house  and  to 
your  own  table.  Why  should  I  ask  any  more  from 
the  king?  .  .  ." 

Meribaal's  words  were  an  agony  to  listen  to. 
David,  it  seemed,  had  been  mistaken — Ziba  was  a 
liar,  and  Meribaal  was  faithful.  Meribaal,  the 
wretched  cripple,  was  faithful,  and  the  beautiful, 
splendid  dead  Absalom  was  a  traitor.  ...  He 
could  endure  it  no  longer. 

"Why  do  you  go  on  tormenting  me  about  your 
affairs?  .  .  .  You  and  Ziba  can  divide  the  land 
between  you." 

Meribaal's  smile  made  him  strangely  like  Jona- 
than, and  it  seemed  as  if  it  were  Jonathan's  voice 
ringing  in  David's  ear  as  he  passed  through  the 
city  gate. 

"Yes,  let  him  take  all,  since  the  king  is  returned 
in  peace.  .  .  ." 


336        DAVID  THE  SON  OF  JESSE 

The  king,  however,  was  not  returned  in  peace, 
and  his  first  action  on  reaching  his  palace  was  to 
send  for  Amasa.  Before  Amasa  arrived  he  was  in- 
formed of  Absalom's  treatment  of  the  women  who 
had  been  left  behind. 

"They  are  widows,"  said  David,  coldly;  "give 
them  a  house  and  see  that  they  are  provided  for. 
Now,  Amasa,  you  are  to  take  command  of  the  tribes. 
Sheba,  the  son  of  Bichri,  a  Benjamite,  has  raised 
a  revolt.  I  give  you  three  days  to  collect  the  fight- 
ing men  here  in  Jerusalem,  and  to  put  yourself  at 
their  head.  In  cases  like  this  speedy  action  is  es- 
sential." 

But  Amasa,  it  seemed,  was  a  man  to  whom 
speed  was  impossible.  The  three  days  passed  and 
there  was  no  news  of  him  or  his  army,  and  on  the 
evening  of  the  fourth  day  David  sent  for  Abishai. 

"This  cousin  of  yours  is  an  incompetent  young 
fool,"  he  began  abruptly.  "If  there  is  much  more 
delay  over  it  Sheba  will  do  us  more  harm  than  ever 
Absalom  did." 

Abishai  agreed. 

"Well,  then,  you  must  take  the  guard  and  go 
after  him — start  to-morrow." 

"But,  David,  I  can't — why  don't  you  send  for 
Joab?" 

"Can't?     What  nonsense,  Abishai!     The  great 


ABSALOM  337 

thing  is  to  catch  Sheba,  before  he  gets  into  a  fortress 
— that  will  mean  a  long  and  expensive  siege  and 
all  sorts  of  troubles.  It  is  all  a  question  of  rapid 
movement  and  you  can  manage  as  well  as  another." 
If  it  reached  David's  ears  the  next  day  that 
Joab  as  well  as  Abishai  had  gone  with  the  guard 
he  said  nothing.  Amasa,  perhaps  hearing  that  his 
rival  cousins  had  after  all  started  against  the  rebels 
first,  made  a  desperate  effort,  and  on  the  evening 
of  the  same  day  reported  himself  as  ready.  David 
shrugged  his  shoulders  and  told  him  to  go,  but  he 
knew  already  that  Amasa  was  doomed.  Amasa 
was  weak  and  slow  and  had  the  post  that  Joab 
thought  should  be  his.  It  could  only  be  a  question 
of  time,  and  when  in  two  or  three  days  rumors 
reached  the  city  of  Amasa's  death — his  murder  by 
Joab — treacherously,  with  a  kiss — the  king  at  least 
made  no  comment.  He  had  long  known  that  Joab 
was  a  man  of  blood,  and  there  was  blood  upon  him 
already  that  made  David  shudder  at  his  approach. 
He  saw,  however,  that  he  would  have  to  allow  his 
approach.  The  defeat  of  Sheba— Abishai  would 
inevitably  yield  the  command  to  his  more  deter- 
mined brother— would  replace  him  at  the  head  of 
the  army  from  which  David  had  hoped  for  a  mo- 
ment to  eject  him.  Joab's  triumphant  return,  his 
dramatic  throwing  of  Sheba's  head  at  the  king's 


338        DAVID  THE  SON  OF  JESSE 

feet,  were  to  him  a  foregone  conclusion.  He 
watched  the  man  he  hated,  with  dulled,  weary  eyes, 
and  submitted  without  another  effort  to  his  odious 
presence. 


Chapter  X 

For  many  years  David  had  had  an  idea  which  he 
had  never  quite  dared  to  put  into  force.  It  had 
for  long  seemed  inconvenient  to  him  not  to  know 
how  many  men  there  were  in  each  tribe.  He  had 
a  rough  idea,  but  after  each  war  the  numbers  varied 
and  he  had  no  way  of  checking  them.  If  he  wanted 
soldiers  or  money  from  any  district  the  chiefs  had 
only  to  send  a  message  saying,  "There  are  no  men," 
and  he  could  go  no  further ;  while  he  was  constantly 
in  danger  of  committing  injustice,  by  taking  too 
many  men  from  one  place  and  too  few  from  another. 
Now  if  he  only  had  the  exact  figures  of  every  tribe, 
how  convenient  it  would  be!  The  difficulty  was 
that  there  would  be  an  immediate  outcry  against  it. 
Everybody  knew  how  dangerous  it  was  to  count 
anything — no  farmer  knew  how  many  sheep  he  had, 
no  woman  the  number  of  her  chickens,  parents 
even  avoided  enumerating  their  children,  and  for  a 


ABSALOM  339 

king  to  number  his  people  would  lay  them  all  open 
to  unknown  perils.  The  jealousy  of  Yahweh  would 
certainly  be  aroused  and  would  not  so  easily  be 
appeased.  And  so  in  the  end  David  had  never 
brought  himself  to  insist  on  it.  Now,  after  his  re- 
turn to  Jerusalem,  and  the  successful  suppression 
of  two  revolts,  in  which  many  of  the  tribesmen 
had  perished,  he  resolved  at  last  that  it  should  be 
done. 

"Joab,"  he  said  one  morning,  after  a  night  of 
screwing  up  his  resolution,  ^'Joah,  I  have  a  com- 
mand for  you." 

Joab  bowed  and  waited. 

"You  are  to  go  from  Dan  to  Beersheba,  and 
number  the  people  in  every  tribe,  and  bring  the 
numbers  to  me." 

Joab  could  not  believe  his  ears. 

"Number  them?"  he  stammered. 

"That  is  what  I  said.  You  are  to  find  the  whole 
number  in  each  tribe,  and  besides  that  the  number 
of  fighting  men  in  each  tribe."  Those  figures, 
David  thought  to  himself,  will  be  useful  for  any 
kind  of  levy — men  or  money. 

By  this  time  Joab  had  recovered  himself. 

"May  Yahweh  increase  the  people  a  hundred 
times,  and  may  your  own  eyes  see  it,"  he  said  with 
fervor;   "but  why  should  you  wish  to  do  such  a 


340        DAVID  THE  SON  OF  JESSE 

thing?  Are  they  not  all  your  servants,  however 
many  they  are?" 

Joab's  opposition  was  apt  to  enrage  the  king. 

"If  you  are  my  servant,  obey  my  orders."  he  said, 
and  Joab  was  silenced.  The  census  took  a  long 
time.  Joab  began  on  the  eastern  bank  of  the  Jordan 
and  worked  north,  then  he  crossed  the  valley  at 
Dan  and  came  south.  It  was  over  nine  months  be- 
fore he  reappeared  at  Jerusalem,  and  David  had 
had  plenty  of  time  to  feel  uncomfortable  about  it. 
There  had  been  a  great  deal  of  gossip  over  this 
extraordinary  action  of  the  king's,  and  Gad  in 
particular  had  told  him  over  and  over  again  that 
Yahweh  was  angry  with  him,  and  would  soon 
punish  him  for  his  pride.  When  Joab  at  last  came 
up  with  the  numbers  David  told  him  shortly  to 
give  them  to  the  scribe,  and,  rather  to  Joab's  vexa- 
tion, said  nothing  more.  That  very  night  David 
had  a  violent  revulsion  of  feeling,  and  wished  he 
had  never  thought  of  anything  so  foolish. 

In  the  morning  reports  began  to  reach  him  of 
plague  in  the  Northern  villages;  as  the  day  wore 
on  and  it  became  evident  that  a  serious  epidemic 
was  sweeping  over  the  country,  a  sort  of  horror  came 
over  the  king.  He  sent  for  Gad,  and  asked  him 
what  it  meant. 

"As  I  warned  you,  Yahweh  is  angry.     There 


ABSALOM  341 

were  three  punishments  in  his  hand — three  years' 
famine,  three  months'  invasion,  or  three  days'  pes- 
tilence— will  you  choose  the  pestilence?" 

"I  suppose  so,"  said  David,  with  a  groan,  "let 
me  fall  into  the  hand  of  Yahweh,  rather  than  into 
the  hand  of  man." 

For  the  remainder  of  the  day  David  was  obsessed 
by  this  dreadful  idea  of  a  pestilence  raging  over 
the  whole  country.  Soon  it  would  be  ravaging 
Jerusalem — who  knew  how  many  would  be  left 
alive  when  all  was  over?  He  sent  out  messengers 
in  every  dirction  with  orders  that  they  were  to  re- 
turn to  him  immediately  with  news  of  how  the  dis- 
ease was  spreading.  He  gave  instructions  to  the 
doorkeeper  to  send  the  messengers  to  him  at  what- 
ever hour  of  the  day  or  night  they  returned.  As  the 
evening  drew  on  the  messages  became  somewhat  less 
alarming,  but  David  would  not  sleep — he  sat  all 
night  alone  in  case  more  news  should  come.  One 
or  two  of  the  men  he  had  sent  out  did  bring  reports, 
and  they  were  reassuring.  He  sat  motionless, 
drowsy,  but  not  sleeping;  suddenly  there  flashed 
into  his  mind  the  picture  he  had  seen  from  the 
Kedron  valley  on  the  day  of  his  flight  from  Ab- 
salom— the  whole  city  of  Jerusalem  white  and 
glittering  in  the  sun,  the  hill  of  Moriah  above  it 
with  the  Jebusite's  green  fields  and  farm  on  the 


342        DAVID  THE  SON  OF  JESSE 

slope.  He  opened  his  eyes  and  looked  out.  The 
dawn  was  near.  The  thought  of  the  fresh  open 
air  attracted  him  and  the  vision  of  Moriah  called 
him  irresistibly.  Twisting  something  warm  around 
him,  he  went  out,  down  through  the  streets,  througli 
the  gate,  down,  and  still  dowTi  to  the  valley  of  the 
Kedron.  As  he  went  his  thoughts  were  all  full  of 
the  danger  of  the  city — the  royal  city — David's  own 
city;  was  there  nothing  he  could  do  to  avert  it,  he 
who  was  called  the  beloved  of  Yahweh? 

By  the  brook  he  stopped,  and  looked  up.  As  he 
did  so  a  crimson  line  seemed  to  rush  through  the 
sky  behind  Moriah — it  was  like  a  flash,  so  bright, 
so  clear,  so  swift. 

"The  flash  of  a  sword,"  thought  David.  "Can  it 
be  the  sword  of  the  angel  of  Yahweh?"  and  as  he 
gazed,  and  wondered  if  the  sword  would  fall,  the 
whole  sky  broke  into  blue  and  gold — ^the  sun  had 
risen. 

When  David  got  back  to  his  palace  he  ex- 
perienced the  same  reaction  of  delight  after  anxiety 
that  he  had  known  so  often  in  his  adventurous  youth. 
All  the  news  that  awaited  him  was  good — the  pes- 
tilence was  clearly  not  coming  further  south  than 
Bethel — Jerusalem  was  saved.  He  sent  for  Gad, 
and  told  him  how  he  had  seen  the  angel  of  Yahweh 
stretch  out  his  sword  over  the  city  and  sheathe  it 


ABSALOM  343 

again  at  the  command  of  Yahweh.  And  Gad  was 
ready  with  a  suggestion: 

"You  ought  to  make  an  altar  to  Yahweh  on  the 
place  where  the  angel  stood." 

David  was  enchanted  with  the  idea. 

"It  is  the  threshing  place  of  Araunah  the  Jebu- 
site,"  he  said.  "I  will  go  up  at  once  and  buy  the 
place  from  him." 

Araunah,  it  appeared,  was  only  too  pleased  to 
let  him  have  the  place,  and  with  the  usual  polite- 
ness of  one  who  is  selling,  begged  the  king  to  take 
it  as  a  gift,  together  with  the  threshing  instruments 
to  burn,  and  the  oxen  for  a  burnt  sacrifice. 

"No,"  answered  David,  smiling,  "I  will  buy  it 
at  a  price ;  for  I  will  not  offer  to  Yahweh,  my  God, 
a  burnt  sacrifice  which  cost  me  nothing." 


Chapter  XI 

David  was  not  well.  For  several  days  he  had  been 
increasingly  irritable,  and  his  servants  noticed  that 
once  or  twice  as  he  walked  he  had  seemed  to  sway, 
and  had  caught  hold  of  some  one,  as  if  to  prevent 
himself  from  falling.  At  last  Bathsheba  asked 
him  if  he  was  feeling  ill,  and  he  admitted  that  he 


344        DAVID  THE  SON  OF  JESSE 

had  been  suffering  from  a  headache  for  some  time. 
"But  that,"  said  he  rather  crossly,  "is  only  because 
I  can't  sleep." 

After  a  little  persuasion  he  agreed  that  he  would 
not  see  his  counselors  for  a  day  or  two,  and  a  bed 
was  prepared  for  him  in  an  inner  room,  away  from 
the  business  and  noise  of  the  palace.  He  went  to  lie 
down,  and  presently  began  to  abuse  his  attendants 
for  not  giving  him  enough  wraps. 

"What  are  you  thinking  of?"  he  cried,  angrily, 
"on  a  cold  day  like  this  to  give  me  nothing  but  that 
miserable  covering ! " 

The  servants  ran  for  more  rugs,  shaking  their 
heads  to  each  other;  it  was  a  pleasant  day  in  June 
— the  king  must  indeed  be  ill  to  think  it  cold. 

After  this  he  made  no  attempt  to  get  up  and  re- 
turn to  the  affairs  of  state.  He  sent  for  Nathan 
and  told  him  that  if  anything  of  importance  hap- 
pened he  was  to  be  informed — but  Joab  was  not  to 
come  near  him.  He  spoke  in  a  breathless  voice, 
interrupted  by  fits  of  coughing,  and  Nathan  shook 
his  head  as  he  left  the  room.  He  thought  things 
looked  very  bad — David  was  an  old  man. 

When  Bathsheba  came  to  see  him  she  saw  at 
once  that  he  was  not  comfortable,  and  made  the 
servants  arrange  the  cushions  so  that  they  propped 
him  up,  and  somewhat  eased  his  difficult  breathing. 


ABSALOM  345 

In  reply  to  his  look  of  gratitude  she  turned  her  head 
quickly  away,  and  then  asked  gently  if  there  was 
anything  else  he  wanted. 

"I  'm  so  cold,  Bathsheba  .  .  .  can't  you  do  any- 
thing to  give  me  a  little  warmth?  ...  It 's  miser- 
able to  be  so  cold.  .  .  ." 

"Of  course  I  can  give  you  warmth — trust  to  me, 
I  will  see  to  it."  She  turned  away,  leaving  him  a 
little  comforted. 

Meanwhile,  outside  that  dark,  quiet  room,  the 
household  was  in  a  tumult.  The  king  was  dying 
— it  was  obvious  he  would  never  recover  from  this 
illness — and  already  the  main  interest  of  the  on- 
lookers lay  in  the  question  of  who  would  succeed 
him.  Adonijah,  said  some,  the  eldest  surviving 
son,  as  handsome  as  Absalom — oh,  nonsense!  cried 
the  other  party,  you  've  forgotten  Absalom — and  as 
great  a  favorite  with  his  father,  who  has  never 
crossed  him.  Solomon,  said  the  others,  the  son  of 
the  favorite — oh,  but  don't  you  remember  the 
scandal  there  was  about  her? — he  's  the  cleverest 
of  the  king's  sons,  and  his  mother  has  the  king's 
ear. 

Bathsheba's  remedy  for  David's  sufferings  from 
cold  was  to  supply  contact  with  a  warm  and  vigor- 
ous body.  She  found  a  pretty  girl  called  Abishag 
from  Shunem,  a  village  in  the  north,  and  sent  her 


346        DAVID  THE  SON  OF  JESSE 

in  to  him.  The  remedy  was  a  good  one ;  for  a  time 
at  least  the  old  man  got  a  little  comfort. 

The  outside  world  drifted  away  from  him. 
Abiathar,  the  high  priest,  came  in  to  see  him,  but 
he  spoke  of  things  that  seemed  infinitely  remote. 
David's  thoughts  circled  round  the  days  that  were 
long  past — the  heroic  days  when  he  had  been  trium- 
phant in  battle,  when  he  was  stronger  and  cleverer 
and  braver  than  any  one  else,  when  even  the  king 
was  afraid  of  him,  and  the  Philistines  ran  away 
from  him.  He  began  to  tell  Abishag  about  it, 
coughing  painfully  between  the  sentences. 

"And  there  were  only  four  hundred  of  us — ^thou- 
sands and  thousands  of  Philistines — but  they  ran 
like  sheep.  .  .  ." 

Abishag  was  delighted  at  these  reminiscences, 
which  had  already  reached  her  in  a  more  or  less 
legendary  form. 

"Oh  yes!  And  the  giant!  Didn't  my  lord  kill 
a  giant?" 

"To  be  sure  I  did — let  me  see — ^what  was  his 
name,  now  .  .  .   ?" 

"Was  it  Goliath?" 

"Goliath!  yes,  that  was  it.  Oh  yes.  King  Saul 
was  there,  and  Jonathan,  and  Abner  .  .  .  they  were 
all  there  .  .  .  and  Saul  had  his  bronze  armor  .  .  . 
and  Goliath  came  out  down  the  hill  with  a  huge 


ABSALOM  347 

shield  and  a  spear  and  a  sword  .  .  .  and  I  went 
to  the  brook  and  picked  out  five  stones — ^nice 
smooth  stones — and  slung  them  .  .  .  and  that 's 
how  I  killed  the  giant.  ..."  A  burst  of  cough- 
ing ended  the  tale. 

Alas,  poor  David!  While  you  enjoy  these  last 
pleasures  of  memory,  events  are  taking  place  which 
will  oblige  you  to  turn  once  more  from  the  golden 
past  to  the  bleak  present — once  more,  before  time 
and  space,  in  the  ultimate  moments  of  existence,  be- 
gin to  recede  toward  infinity.  .  .  . 

The  sounds  of  armed  men  in  the  palace  and  in 
the  streets  could  not  penetrate  to  the  dying  man's 
ear,  nor  was  he  aware  of  whispered  consultations 
in  the  room  beyond  his.  At  last  Bathsheba  came 
in,  and  instead  of  coming  up  to  him  where  he  lay, 
made  an  obeisance. 

"What  is  it?"  said  the  king.  "What  do  you 
want?" 

Bathsheba  came  nearer,  and  he  thought,  vaguely, 
that  she  looked  agitated. 

"Did  you  not  swear  by  the  life  of  Yahweh  that 
Solomon  should  be  king?" 

"Did  I?  ...  I  dare  say— I  don't  remem- 
ber. .  ." 

"But  now  Adonijah  has  made  himself  king  with- 
out your  knowledge.     He  has  had  a  great  feast, 


348        DAVID  THE  SON  OF  JESSE 

and  Abiathar  and  Joab  have  been  summoned,  but 
not  Solomon.  And  I  am  afraid  lest  when — if  you 
...  get  worse  .  .  .  Solomon  and  I  shall  be 
ruined.  ..." 

"Adonijah  king,  did  you  say?" 

At  that  moment  an  attendant  appeared  to  say 
that  Nathan  begged  to  be  admitted  into  the  king's 
presence. 

"About  this,  I  suppose.  Well,  I  must  settle  it. 
Stay  in  the  next  room,  Bathsheba,  I  shall  want  you. 
Nathan,  what  is  this  I  hear?" 

"My  lord,  I  have  come  to  ask  if  it  is  by  your 
orders  that  Adonijah  is  proclaimed  king.  He  has 
made  sacrifices,  and  called  Joab  and  Abiathar  and 
the  princes  to  them,  but  he  has  not  sent  for  Solomon, 
or  Zadok  the  priest,  or  Benaiah,  or  myself.  Is  this 
by  the  king's  order,  and  was  it  of  set  purpose  that 
we  were  told  nothing  of  your  intentions  as  regards 
the  succession?" 

"Of  course  not.  Go  and  fetch  Zadok  and  Bena- 
iah and  come  back  to  me."  There  was  clearly  a 
lot  to  be  done,  and  David  felt  he  must  husband  all 
his  strength  to  be  able  to  do  it.  "Call  Bathsheba 
to  me." 

She  came  in  and  stood  beside  him,  her  still 
beautiful  eyes  fixed  anxiously  on  his  face.  He 
tried  to  speak,  but  was  cut  short  by  a  terrible  fit 


ABSALOM  349 

of  coughing,  and  it  was  a  long  time  before  he  re- 
covered his  voice. 

"Listen,  Bathsheba.  As  Yahweh  lives  and  as  I 
have  sworn  to  you  by  Yahweh,  God  of  Israel, 
Solomon  your  son  shall  reign  after  me,  and  shall 
sit  on  my  throne  in  my  stead." 

He  sank  back  exhausted. 

"May  David  the  king  live  forever!"  she  cried; 
and  hearing  the  approach  of  the  counselors  hurried 
away. 

"Give  me  something  to  drink,"  whispered  David, 
"and  push  these  cushions  up  behind  me  .  .  .  ah, 
that  is  better  .  .  .  show  them  in."  His  voice  grew 
stronger  and  again  he  seemed   master  of  himself, 

"There  is  no  time  to  lose,"  he  said,  as  the  officers 
entered.  "Take  the  household  servants  and  guards, 
and  put  Solomon  on  my  own  mule  and  take  him  to 
— ^yes,  the  sanctuary  of  Gihon  will  do,  it  is  near. 
Zadok  and  Nathan  are  to  anoint  him  king  of  Israel, 
and  you,  Benaiah,  will  cause  the  trumpet  to  be 
blown,  and  will  make  them  shout,  "God  save  King 
Solomon."  Then  bring  him  back  and  let  him  sit 
on  the  throne;  for  he  is  to  be  king  after  me." 

Benaiah  stepped  forward,  his  face  red  with  ex- 
citement. 

"So  be  it!  so  be  it!"  he  cried,  "and  may  Yah- 
weh, the  king's  god,  say  so  too!     And  as  Yahweh 


350        DAVID  THE  SON  OF  JESSE 

has  been  with  the  king,  so  may  he  be  with  Solomon, 
and  make  Solomon's  throne  greater  than  David's ! " 

"Be  quiet!  Come  away! "  whispered  Zadok  and 
Nathan,  pulling  Benaiah  out  of  the  room,  "don't 
make  such  a  noise  .  .  .  the  poor  old  man  can't 
stand  it.  .  .  ." 

While  waiting  for  a  report  of  the  proclamation 
David  was  very  restless;  his  breathing  was  begin- 
ning to  get  stertorous.  It  seemed  an  endless  time 
before  Zadok  came  in  with  the  news  that  all  had 
gone  off  well,  and  David  whispered  that  Solomon 
was  to  come  in  to  him.  It  was  not  long  before  the 
yoimg  king  entered  and  came  to  the  sick-bed. 
David  looked  at  him  and  put  his  hand  on  his  head, 
saying : 

"Blessed  be  Yahweh,  God  of  Israel,  who  has 
given  a  king  to  sit  on  my  throne  while  I  still  live 
to  see  it.  .  .  .  Now,  Solomon,  listen;  I  have  some- 
thing important  to  say  .  .  .  two  things.  First  .  .  . 
Joab  .  .  .  Joab  the  son  of  Zeruiah.  He  killed 
Abner  .  .  .  and  Amasa  .  .  .  and  .  .  .  and  I  don't 
remember  .  .  .  there  was  some  one  else  .  .  .  well, 
never  mind — he  is  a  bloodthirsty  man  ...  be  wise, 
and  put  him  to  death.  .  .  .  Who  was  the  other? 
.  .  .  who  was  it?  another  bloodthirsty  man  .  .  . 
yes,  yes,  Shimei,  the  son  of  Gera;  he  is  a  Benjamite 
and  hates  us  for  the  sake  of  the  house  of  Saul  .  .  . 


ABSALOM  351 

he  came  down  from  Bahurim  cursing  me  and  throw- 
ing stones  when  I  was  escaping  to  Mahanaim,  and 
on  the  way  back  I  promised  to  spare  him  ...  be 
wise,  Solomon,  and  put  him  to  death.  .  .  ."  The 
coughing  again  choked  any  further  utterance. 

That  night  Solomon  was  told  that  his  father  was 
worse.  He  went  in  and  found  him  leaning  for- 
ward on  his  elbows,  gasping,  his  face  purple  and 
swollen.  They  had  been  much  alarmed,  the  ser- 
vant said,  because  a  little  while  ago  his  breathing 
had  seemed  to  stop  .  .  .  but  he  had  got  better 
again  .  .  .  they  were  much  afraid  of  another  at- 
tack of  coughing.  As  he  spoke  the  attack  began. 
The  old,  weak  body  seemed  to  be  fighting  for  breath, 
while  they  held  him  on  each  side,  helping  to  sup- 
port him.  All  at  once,  in  the  middle  of  a  par- 
oxysm, he  fell  forward  on  his  face.  The  cough- 
ing and  gasping  stopped — there  was  a  silence.  The 
servants  hurriedly  lifted  him  up  and  laid  him  back 
on  his  cushions.  They  looked  at  him,  and  then, 
without  speaking,  at  Solomon;  David  the  son  of 
Jesse,  king  of  Judah  and  Israel,  was  dead. 


UC  SOUTHERN  REGONAL  ueRARY  FAOUTY 


A    000  1 29  888    4 


ii'H'if 


iji  !iii 


iiiiil 


III 


